Tomione Drabble Collection Part 1
by tellmesomethingnew
Summary: A collection of all my current drabbles. Thought I'd split it up into 2 parts. Each part for two years of drabbles. All inspired by one thing or another. Ratings range from k-m, depending on warnings and content.
1. Peeping Tom

**Prompt: ****Tomione Kink Meme Prompt Fill.**Tom overhears Hermione masturbating and it gets him really hot and bothered. Hermione has to accidentally moan his name out loud.

**Warnings:** Language and Sexual Content

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**Peeping Tom**

Tom stood before the Prefect's Bathroom, his towel in hand and his robes left back in his room. He entered the perimeter, knowing that Granger would still be in the library. He froze, when he found that someone else was in there.

He stood in a mini hallway before it turned into the bath area. He stood by the corner, listening.

A girl moaned.

Not just any girl.

_Granger._

Tom, curious as ever, furrowed his eyebrows and listened.

Hermione was in the bath, the hot water heating up her skin from the cold winter day. She sat there, her legs opened as wide as she could under comfort. One hand held open the lips of her pussy, the other brush over her burning, pulsing pearl. She moaned each time she stroked it.

Merlin, she wanted to come.

_Not yet_, she thought as she bit her lip and teased herself further.

She thought of Tom's light eyes, the way they stared at her in silence constantly. She constantly felt the sexual frustration radiating from him whenever they were alone together. But why didn't he ever speak to her?

He was too handsome that it hurt. Gorgeous with that dark hair and perfectly sculpted face. His lean body – Merlin, she could just imagine what he looked like naked.

She touched her clit again and moaned a little louder.

Tom's instant erection pressed against his trousers tightly. He squirmed a bit here and there, every time he heard her moan, he wanted her more.

He had wanted her since the moment he met her.

He just didn't realize that until now.

He could just imagine her, naked beneath him, spread open to be taken.

_Merlin_.

Tom peered around the corner and saw Hermione. Her eyes were closed, so she couldn't see him.

_Good_.

Hermione quickly got out of the bath, still oblivious to Tom spying on her. She sat on the edge of the floor, where it dipped into the bath and spread her legs open, entering two fingers into her opening.

He wasn't sure how he'd imagine this girl, who was always closed off, naked. But now he saw.

He saw her perky breasts, the nipples he was aching to latch his lips onto. He saw her stomach, so perfect, and her legs, long and slender for her size. And then her cunt. He had seen plenty before, but none like Hermione's, where he'd have traded almost anything to march on over there right now to go down on.

He watched as her fingers slid in and out quickly, stating how wet she was.

Hermione let go of her pussy's lips and latched her hand onto a breast, pinching a nipple as she moaned.

"_Tom_," she moaned this time.

She had to stop herself.

Tom quickly ducked around the corner, his eyes dark and wide as he stared down to the floor.

_So she is thinking of me_, he thought with a sly smirk.

Fuck, he wanted her.

Hermione looked around the empty bathroom with a red face, her hand stilled. Brushing it off, she went back to touching herself.

She pulled her fingers out, spreading her essence across her clit, moaning again and nearly whimpering. So sensitive, she could cum at two strokes.

Hermione heard footsteps. Jumping to cover herself, she looked up and saw Tom enter the bathroom in a heated stride, his dark eyes on her.


	2. Allies

**Prompt:** Hunger Games

**Warnings:** Character Death

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**Allies**

The thirst made Hermione swallow more than usual. Sweat dripped down the side of her face as her breaths came in short, deep pants. She wouldn't allow herself to stop. Not for anything.

_I have to live_.

Fear was her best friend now. She feared all pain – the idea of leaving her mother and father behind in the wake of her death. She feared of letting down her sponsors and Severus, her mentor who through thick and thin supported her no matter what, who made her who she is now – strong. She feared of letting down her two best friends back at home, Harry and Ron.

But it now came to a point where she could no longer move. She tumbled to the dry earth next to a fresh water river as she reached out and cupped the water into her hand, bringing it to her lips with greed.

When her thirst had been quenched for the time being, she laid there, her wand safely in its holster at her side. Her screaming muscles were beginning to relax.

Soon, her breath regulated and it caught up with her, the lowering sun causing the darkness in the forest to relax her. She could be seen less easily now.

It was absolute torture to have her wand capped to only performing defense and murdering spells.

The 3 unforgivable curses, Stupefy, Expelliarmus, Bombarda, Finite Incantartem, and one custom spell created by each person's Mentor. Severus had come up with Sectumsempra, which was a spell Hermione kept at the top of her head, feeling safer with such a spell known.

After an hour or so of just laying there, letting her body rest, she sat up, getting to her feet shakily and tiredly. She wanted to keep moving now, wanting to find a safe spot.

It was hard with no allies.

Who would watch her back while she slept?

Could she even sleep knowing she was alone in this game?

She looked around the dimly lit forest for a place to hide. At least hiding would help her feel a bit more relaxed to sleep.

Suddenly, a tree branch on the earth snapped behind Hermione, and her body went frigid. She quickly turned around to see just up ahead, Tom Riddle from District 1.

Her eyes widened.

She hadn't seen him since the first hour of the Game. Never had he shown any signs that he wanted to attack her, but whenever they were in the same room or in close proximity, he always seemed to be watching her, and that had left Hermione confused as to if he wanted to kill her or not.

She quickly drew her wand, pointing it at him shakily.

He had his wand raised at the same time.

The two said nothing, just stared at each other.

_This is it. I'm surely to die, _thought one part of Hermione.

_Remember what Severus taught you, _the other part of her thought.

She was aware of him fully, ready to dodge a spell at any given moment, ready to throw Severus's spell at him. But she wouldn't dare make the first move, afraid of assuming his actions to be the opposite.

"_Avada Kadavra_!" Tom shot too fast for Hermione to block.

_NO!_

Hermione winced, tears forming in her eyes in fear as she waited for the curse to hit her.

But it never did.

After a moment, her eyes opened. She looked down at herself, still in one piece.

As if she felt she had to, she turned to look behind her.

There on the ground a few feet away, Bellatrix, from Tom's district, dead on the ground.

The cannon sounded, making Hermione jump at how frigid she still was.

Tom began walking closer to Hermione and her eyes fell to him again.

He look exhausted, tired, sweaty, worn.

Above, a Hovercraft came to take Bellatrix's dead body away and Hermione moved closer to Tom as she put her wand back in its holster, wrapping her arms around herself.

"You...didn't kill me..." she murmured when he was close enough to hear. She didn't want to speak too loudly in fear of attracting any attention from the perimeter around them, should there be any other tributes around.

Hermione felt Tom's eyes rake over her face and her breathing came in short, deep pants again.

Tom said nothing as he looked around, pointing to the spot Hermione had eyed before he showed up.

"We'll camp there tonight. Tomorrow, we'll move to the other side of the arena. It's best we keep moving," he ordered.

Furrowed eyebrows and a puzzled face, Hermione watched Tom kneel on the ground, pulling out a container and dipping it into the river, letting the water fill it.

_I should do the same_, Hermione thought as she shrugged out of her backpack and took her container out, kneeling down beside Tom and watching him carefully.

"I need someone to watch my back and you need someone to watch yours," Tom said without looking at her. "There's no easier way to survive this Game without an ally." This time he did look at her. The two stared at each other for a few moments.

Memories of the interview with Caesar Flickerman came to mind.

_"So tell us about you. Any special girl waiting for you back at home? I mean, you __**are **__quite the looker," said Caesar._

_Tom, with a straight face, shook his head. "I don't have anything to return home to," was his reply._

_Pity had flooded Hermione at that moment as she watched the screen zoom in to a numb-looking Tom._

_"No one? How sad," Caesar looked to the crowd with a fake sad face._

Tom had no one to fight for. So why did he decide to become allies with Hermione? She was from District 12, one of the poorest Districts. She was below him.

Severus had warned Hermione about Tom. He had warned her about how no one has figured him out and how no matter what, he wasn't to be trusted.

Hermione didn't have a choice right now.

The two still looked at each other.

"Why me?" Hermione questioned.

Tom said nothing as he capped his container and moved towards their new camp spot, their hiding place.

Soon, night time had fallen, and the Panem music was heard all around the arena. Faces of the fallen tributes from just today splayed across the arena ceiling. Even Hermione's friend Neville's face appeared and she frowned. He was her friend, he was from home.

Last came Bellatrix's face and Hermione looked to Tom, who had his back to the tree just beside the fort of leaves the two had made above a dip in the earth.

Tom, as if he had felt Hermione's eyes, looked to her with a tired, calm face.

"Thank you for saving my life," she murmured to him. She was grateful for him. She felt indebted to him.

Still, with a tired and calm face, Tom looked at Hermione carefully. "I expect you to do the same, should you ever have to," he murmured to her in response.

Hermione nodded her head in understanding. She expected that too.

"Get some sleep. I'll take first watch. I'll wake you up in a few hours."

Hermione nodded her head again and on the pile of soft leaves the two had created, she laid down, her head resting on her backpack with her wand held tight in her hand. She fell asleep in minutes to the sound of Tom's heavy breathing, the nighttime crickets and animals, and the nearby river's water dancing over the rocks away from them.

She felt _safe_.


	3. I've Always Wanted to Try This

**Prompt: **Tomione Convention's Everybody Poops Challenge

**Warnings:** Smut, Bondage, Language, Abuse, and Watersports

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"**I've Always Wanted to Try This..."**

The place was deserted, noted Hermione as she stood in the doorway of the old-looking lavatory just outside the walls of Hogsmeade. Her aching bladder was the only thing that kept her moving forward, hoping that at least one of the toilets would be usable. If not, she'd curse under her breath and just head back to the school grounds. But this was Hogsmeade we were talking about here. She had been waiting all summer for this. And now, she wasn't going to let a full bladder make her lose time in heading back to the school, not even trusting any of the Hogsmeade bathrooms enough to use them.

She pushed opened a stall door, peering inside at the average-looking toilet and then to the half-full roll of toilet paper. She relaxed. She had found sanctuary.

"Well then, what do we have here?" came a voice from the entrance.

Hermione tensed up as she immediately recognized the voice.

"This is the girl's lavatory, Riddle," Hermione hissed as she glared at him, ignoring his handsome features and that sexy crooked smirk that hung at his lips. "_Leave_."

"No." Hermione's eyes widened at him with the sharp edge in his voice. She watched him pull his wand from his robes and wave it. The lavatory door closed with an angry bang and Hermione heard the latches to the lock turn.

_What the bloody hell?_

"Hermione, you know me to be a man of many sexual things, correct?" Tom asked her. He was unreadable, blank-faced, relaxed as he slowly walked over to her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, ignoring his question and the flash of memory from when he took away her virginity just weeks ago. "Riddle, I have to pee, now leave."

"Tell me, Hermione, have you heard of 'watersports' before? It's a very muggle-thing, you see. But I find it quite intriguing."

Hermione heart skipped a beat. She had heard of such things a while back from a few girls who were gossiping after their Muggle Studies. Surely Tom wouldn't…

She watched a glint of curiosity and dark lust flicker in his eyes. Hermione knew that look all too well.

"Tom…" She only called him by his first name when she panicked, which was her own fault really because Tom knew that about her and now, he knew she was panicking, which he visibly relished highly.

Tom looked around the lavatory, his nose wrinkling in disgust. "Honestly, I wish we had a better setting for this."

_No no no no…_

Suddenly, Tom waved his wand and Hermione was suspended backwards to the farthest end of the lavatory, she was spread-eagle against the wall, her ankles and wrists held by invisible restraints.

Tom walked over to her, snake-like, watching his prey warily with dark, lusting green eyes and an evil smirk. Hermione shivered, noting the dull ache of her full bladder. _Please no…_

"Well, I've always wanted to try this…" Tom smirked wider now, more to himself than at anything else. "And you, Hermione," he started as he raised a hand to her cheek and stroked the soft, flushed skin, "are the perfect person for that." Hermione shivered under his touch. She hated how it made her feel but oh...how she wanted what had happened that one night to happen again...the part where he had basically seduced her and made her his new one-night-stand.

"Tom, please," she begged. If she were to even have an accident in front of the one man whose opinions she cared about (and shouldn't care about) the most, she would be mortified for the remainder of her life.

Tom waved his wand again and Hermione's clothes had vanished, leaving her opened and exposed before him. He stared at her full breasts, smirking lovingly in a twisted way, and then his eyes trailed down to her womanhood, which he had once expressed in adoring quite much. She shivered under his gaze, knowing well enough what was to happen. No doubt he had placed a silencing charm on the lavatory so that no one would hear her scream as she knew she would one way or another. Now she anticipated.

"Most girls I've slept with are boring, nothing special," he said as he walked close to her. Hermione felt his heat radiate from beneath his clothes for how close he was, and then she could feel his hot breath at her neck. "But you, Hermione Granger," he started out as he grabbed a breast. Hermione sucked in a breath and cringed at the sudden twisting, warm feeling in her stomach that traveled south, "for a Mudblood...are absolutely a treasure…"

Hermione shivered again and then sucked in a breath at the feeling of him grasping her nipple between his thumb and index finger, pinching it until the feeling in her stomach traveled farther and farther south until…

She moaned.

A smile came across Tom's perfect lips that Hermione saw to be a triumphant-like smile.

"Tom, I'm bursting, let me go," she said shakily through clenched teeth, clenching her muscles hard against the feeling of her bladder, which begged to be emptied.

And then Tom's free hand (Hermione noted that he had put his wand away by now) pressed against her bulging bladder. She groaned, feeling her body heat up from anticipation and fear.

"Look how big you've gotten, Hermione. How long has it been? About four hours, I'm guessing," he murmured menacingly.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but her bladder. Tom pushed a little on it and Hermione groaned again, cursing under her breath, which had earned a chuckle from Tom.

The hand that had been squeezing her bladder slowly, seductively, slid up to cupping her forgotten breast. Together, he pinched both nipples, a moan erupting from Hermione, her muscles continuously clenching down south.

"Tom," she begged.

"The last thing I'd want to do was put a silencing hex on you. I'm craving your screams too much," he warned her as his hands traveled down her body slowly until they reached to her backside, squeezing her arse.

She could already feel herself begin to become wet. She just wished this happened another time, when she wasn't bursting to pee.

Tom's hands squeezed once more before they came back around and continued to travel down Hermione's body. He reached her legs, marveling at the structure of her perfection. He reached her ankles and then slowly returned upwards only to dip between her legs, softly touching the inside of her thighs. He was teasing her, she realized. He wanted to make her wet before he took advantage of the fact.

But boy was it working.

And she was still bursting. She knew she could hardly hold on for longer before she'd have an accident before Tom.

Tom pulled away, still smiling evilly as he shrugged from his robes, his sweater vest, his button-down shirt, his trousers, his pants… Tom was now naked before Hermione. Her eyes opened and traveled down his perfect body, eyes marveling at his protruding collar bone, chest, abs, and a hardened erection sticking up to his bellybutton.

She wanted him to fuck her.

But she also wanted to pee.

"I can already see the wheels turning in your head, Hermione," he whispered seductively as he stepped closer to her than before, a hand over her bladder and sliding down, into her pubic hair, where he knew her throbbing clit was. He smiled at the erect clit, kneeling down to its level as he used both hands to peel back her lips, unmasking the clit and her now dripping opening.

The action caused Hermione to need to clamp down on her muscles tighter so she wouldn't let loose. Tom watched and smiled more. "This is quite an entertaining day, if I may say so myself," he murmured darkly.

Hermione whimpered. She looked down, watching as Tom let go with one hand, using his busied one to keep her lips open to him. He entered his index finger into her opening, gathering the juices and then moved up to circle her clit.

_Oh fuck…_

He knew how to handle a woman's private parts. He knew how to seduce a woman's body. He just knew it all. And it showed as Hermione could already feel an orgasm begin to build up already.

But she knew well that if she were to orgasm, she would let go and it would just be one embarrassing mess.

He stroked her clit in tiny circles, sending jolts upon jolts of pleasure.

_Cum now, worry later_, she told herself as she moaned. She was on the brink of an orgasm, her muscles spasming as just a squirt of urine escaped her urethra when the pleasuring stopped. She gasped for a moment and then whimpered, feeling her urethra beg to relax.

Tom pressed a finger to her urethra, smiling at the image of Hermione trying to move her body away from his finger's invasion, but it was no use and another squirt escaped.

"A woman's anatomy is remarkable," he commented, pushing again as one more squirt erupted. Hermione whimpered and gave him useless pleas.

He sucked in a breath slowly, Hermione noting that he could smell the potent urine in the air just as Hermione could.

_Merlin, help me…_

Her body stiffened as she cried out when she felt the invasion of Tom's hard member suddenly buried deep within her. She felt the thickness of his dick pressing against the walls of her full bladder.

"I can feel your bladder, Hermione," he whispered in her ear. She shivered and a tear began to escape. "It's making you tighter than usual, which I like even more."

Around Tom's dick, Hermione's walls quaked, wanting to swallow him in further for pleasure, but he was in as deep as possible, balls-deep.

"Tell me, Hermione. What do you want most right now? For me to fuck you? Or for you to let go of your bladder?" Tom asked, his voice hoarse with lust and darkness.

"I hate you," she spat at him, clenching her muscles as tight as she could possibly do.

Tom chuckled into her ear darkly. "Yes, Hermione, tighten those weak muscles of yours. We'll see what happens first," he whispered next, suddenly pulling out and then slamming back into her. While he pushed hard against her bladder's walls, she felt him also stroke her g-spot the way she knew only Tom could. She trembled, moaned, another tear escaping as another squirt left her.

"I can feel your hot urine on my dick, Hermione," he told her as he pulled out and slammed right back in two more times, if she squirted again, she wouldn't be able to stop.

When Tom pulled out mostly, with his tip just entered in her, he took his index finger from before, dipped it into her opening and then touched her clit again. He slowly circled it three times before he slammed into her again. She cried out.

She was close to cumming already and yet her bladder was close to releasing as well.

_Please…_

And then he pumped into her continuously, fast, hard, desperate and animal-like as his index finger on her clit matched the pace with its circles.

Hermione cried out again, the pleasure more than she was used to as she felt herself get close. But when she was close enough, Tom abruptly stopped, pulling back to look at Hermione. He studied her sweating features before he pressed his lips to hers, nibbling on her lower lip for a moment. When the kiss broke, he gave her a playful smirk.

"I love feeling you throb for me, Hermione," he said as he looked down at their joined bodies. He moved his finger up and down her clit once, causing Hermione to jolt and whimper. Her urethra let out a solid one second full of urine, spilling down and over Tom's dick, which she swore she felt twitch. He wanted to cum just as much as she did, she realized.

"I wonder what will happen when you cum," he pondered aloud a little too innocently.

Hermione shook her head. "_No_," she pleaded.

Tom smiled evilly once again, chuckling darkly as he returning to his abusive pounding and circling finger. In seconds, Hermione was crying out his name, her bladder letting loose as her urine soaked his dick and puddled around the tile beneath her. Her toes curled, still crying out from the best orgasm she had yet experienced. But even when her waves of pleasure had ceased and she was left soaked and sensitive, Tom was still pounding, now leaving her poor clit alone for once. He held tight to her hips, pounding and pounding until he stilled and Hermione felt his hot seed within her. He groaned with that, burying his face into Hermione's sweaty neck.

The only thing sounding in the lavatory was Hermione's heavy breathing. Tom breathed into her neck and she felt him smiling.

"That, Hermione, was probably the best orgasm I've yet experienced. What a joy to see you in such a state of mess for me," he said as he pulled out of her slowly and took a step away from her, his face just as flushed as hers.

She watched him reach into his pile of clothes and retrieve his wand, waving it between them as the mess Tom had caused was cleaned away, leaving Hermione feeling dry and clean. She watched him dress and then walked over to her, wrapping an arm around her as the other hand waved the wand, there were no more restraints and Hermione fell against him instead of to the hard floor. He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

"Let it be known that when I say you are to be my girlfriend, you are not allowed to deny me anymore, are we clear?" he asked her.

Hermione, too scared to think of what else he could do to her as embarrassing as that, nodded her head. She was still shaking, her breath not yet caught up with her. Her clothes were returned to her and she left the lavatory, holding hands with Tom, whom she hated but loved all at once.

She looked at the lavatory, forever in horror of what Tom had made her do.


	4. Enemy

**Prompt:** None

**Warnings:** None

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**Enemy**

Hermione was in hysterics as she clawed her fingers through her hair until it looked as if she was holding her head. She nearly bent over with her range of emotions as she breathed quickly. Through the rushing crowd, Tom broke through, his eyes trained on her.

He was at her side as quickly as possible. He put his hands on her shoulders. "Hermione, look at me."

"Dumbledore's dead. I can't take this anymore," she said. She barely made any sense from how she struggled to keep herself from crying, her voice squeaking.

"Everything will be fine, Hermione," Tom said as calmly as he could. His features showed he was calm, but underneath his emotions were something else.

"No it won't!" she yelled, but her voice still hadn't overpowered everyone else around her. "Voldemort basically wants us dead. We're doomed."

_Shit_, Tom thought. He bit his cheek to keep himself from showing his inner emotions. It was too late now. He couldn't tell her that he was also Voldemort, or more so a memory of him. He knew he should have told her earlier. He never expected things to get so far out of control.

"And now he's going to want me dead because I'm a m-mudblood." Tears broke loose and traveled down her cheeks as she let go of her hair and placed one hand over her stomach, the other over her mouth as she sobbed.

Tom actually took pity for the girl. He hated how soft he had become, especially for someone like Hermione, a mudblood.

This wasn't the Hermione he knew. Something had snapped within her moments ago and to tell the truth, it scared Tom. Hermione was supposed to be determined, hard-headed, she'd know what to do (or at least think she'd know). But this Hermione was scary. She was crying and afraid. The Hermione he had attached himself to was unafraid, a fighter.

He had no choice but to wrap his arms around her and let her melt into his embrace.

Across the hall, his eyes fell on Harry and Ron, who were glaring at him with cold, disgusted looks.

They knew.

His lips twisted into an evil smirk, all thoughts of Hermione's drastic emotional turn aside for the moment.


	5. Safe and Sound

**Prompt:** Hunger Games

**Warnings:** Language and Blood

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**Safe and Sound**

Hermione, biting on her lip to keep from whimpering or crying out, kept her eyes shut, afraid that the sight of the blood would only make her panic further. She felt it, sharp, sturdy, and sticking out of her leg. Finally, her eyes opened, but she looked anywhere but her leg. She looked to Tom, who's head was turned to watch from around the boulder's corner.

"Riddle! I know you're here somewhere," called Grindelwald from somewhere nearby.

Betrayed, it was still odd for Hermione to see a person, who was once supposed to be Tom's good friend, turned murderous against him.

Tom turned to Hermione now, eyeing her as he breathed deeply and looked down to her leg.

One hand wrapped itself around the blade's holster, the other outstretched to Hermione.

"Take my hand and be silent," he told her quickly in such a low, whispered voice. "Can you do that for me?"

Tears were streaming down Hermione's dirty and sweaty face. She nodded her head profusely and held on tight to his hand. And just as she took Tom's hand did Tom pull the blade from Hermione's flesh, bringing fresh blood oozing with it.

Hermione wanted to cry out. She wanted to scream at the pain, but the most she allowed herself was to squeeze Tom's hand as hard as she could and leaned her forehead to press against the crook of his neck.

When it was all said and done, Hermione weakly let go of Tom's now-numb hand. To try and comfort her, he wrapped an arm around her, almost as if he were hugging her. Hermione rested her hands on his chest as she kept silent, but breathed harshly.

"Grindelwald! The camp's been breeched!" came a female voice from farther away.

There was silence.

"Fuck," Grindelwald growled, followed by the sound of his retreating footsteps on the leaf-covered ground.

Hermione looked up at Tom, still crying.

Tom shook his head and wiped the fresh tears away, shaking his head. "Not this, Hermione. Not now."

Hermione was losing a lot of blood and the more minutes that ticked by, the more the world spun around her. She whimpered a little and shook her head to try and make it stop.

Tom was beginning to lose it. His eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed, looking around as if there'd be something there for him to help her. But there was nothing.

Hermione suddenly fell unconscious and Tom tried to shake her awake. He felt for her pulse, which was only as weak as his strength at the moment.

But suddenly, a melodic bell chimed from above.

Tom looked up and saw a donation falling from the air towards him.

Gently, he let go of Hermione and stood to his feet shakily, taking the grey box hung by a silver parachute and opened it.

On the note inside read:

**Take care of her.**

**\- Severus**

Tom tucked the note away in his pocket and pulled out a vile. He only had to look at it for a moment to recognize the potion. As fast as he could, he pulled the cork from it and poured the contents onto Hermione's leg. Hermione whimpered in her sleep, but as soon as the contents was poured did the wound begin to disappear.

When he knew she was alright, he let out a heavy sigh and sat down, his back colliding with the boulder, relieved that his ally's life was saved.


	6. The Game

**Prompt: Tomione Kink Meme Prompt Fill.** Hermione decided to take over anything sexual between her and Tom for one night and agreeing, Tom soon regrets it with a night of being tortured with teasing. One orgasm and maybe another. Brownie points if the last orgasm is a ruined orgasm.

**Warnings:** Smut, fem!dom, Edging, Teasing, Torture, Language,

* * *

**The Game**

A glassy evening had fallen upon London and the door to a small flat opened, entering Tom Riddle fresh from his five hour shift at Borgin and Burkes. He looked tired, but nonetheless alive. The man froze at the sight of what stood leaning up against the wall beside the bedroom door.

Hermione Granger had done plenty of things with Ron in the past…er…future. But never had it quenched her thirst to try new things, which led her to stand against that wall in nothing but her knickers, bra, stockings, garter belt, glossy black heels, and bold red lipstick that she knew Tom loved her to wear. A small devious smile was splayed across her lips as she looked to Tom.

The flat was dimly lit. A lamp by the living room couch where a fire in the fireplace burned was turned on and candles on the dresser and nightstands flickered in the bedroom.

Hermione held one item.

Her wand.

And the way she twirled it in her hands gave away that she had a plan and it involved her lover Tom.

Tom closed the door behind him, shrugging out of his jacket. He hung it on the coat rack, drawing his attention back to the lioness.

"What's going on?" he asked with confusion.

With a wave of her Wand, Tom's buttons to his waistcoat were undone.

Tom looked down and back to Hermione, raising his eyebrows before a playful smile was at his lips. She wanted to play a game, and he felt more than obliged to play right along.

So as if a predator stalking its prey, he walked up to her, waiting for her to say something. But she said nothing, which left him itching to know what she had in store for him.

Suddenly, Hermione grasped onto the collar of his oxford, pulling him so close to him so that she could crush her lips to his. Fitting perfectly together, she managed to spin them around so she was practically pushing him into the bedroom. With her high heels, she kicked the door closed, pushing him onto the bed and quickly letting go.

And with a wave of her wand, Tom was bound to the bed by magic. His wrists tied together above his head. With a sudden frustrated look, Tom tilted his head back so he could watch and test the binds. Whatever charm she had used, she was smart.

Not that Tom had once doubted her intelligence.

When Tom looked back at Hermione, she was crawling up the length of the bed slowly, seductively, until she was sitting astride his waist. She leaned down and giggled dangerously, leveling her lips to his ears.

"Do you want to play a game, Tom?" she asked him.

"Depends," was his answer.

She leaned back and looked down at him, her beauty captivating him as it always had.

"Tom Riddle never begs does he?" she questioned as she hurried and got to her feet, slowly circling the foot of the bed.

The question made Tom froze.

_She can't be serious._

"Let's play a game called," she started, making a thoughtful face before she gave him a wicked grin, "How Long Can Tom Last Until He Begs?" She stopped beside the bed, reaching over and waving her wand as his clothes disappeared. He watched her lay her wand safely on the nightstand.

A very naked Tom Riddle laid opened and exposed to his mistress.

She touched his muscular, lanky chest, feeling the hard muscles slowly, until she reached his stomach. She leaned down so that they were nearly nose to nose. He felt the heat radiating from her, soaking it in with each deep breath he took. It wasn't too cold in the flat, thanks to the burning fireplace in the living room, but the sexy edge in Hermione's voice had left his shaft to begin to thicken as his skin broke out into goose bumps.

"You're probably wondering, 'What's the prize?' Because, you know, every one-sided game must come with a prize, right?" She went to kiss him, and Tom tried to lean forward a bit to lean into the kiss, but what he got instead was a hard bite at his lower lip. He liked that.

"When you beg me to let you cum, you'll get your wish." She pulled away from him, slowly walking to the foot of the bed, her hips swaying seductively.

No matter how badly he already wanted to fuck her, prideful anger took over his mood. "I do not beg," he spat at her with bitterness.

Hermione, used to that bitterness by now, gave him a bored look.

And just like that, her little warm hand was wrapped around the base of his already throbbing cock. Tom nearly gasped into the air of the bedroom at the contact. He hadn't felt her touch, that intimately, for weeks. The two had been so busy…

Hermione was nestled between his legs now, eyeing his cock with an adoring glint in her brown eyes. Slowly, loosely, she moved her fisted hand upwards until her palm was wrapped around the smooth tip. Tom had broken out into a heat of shuttered breaths, his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed under the pleasure her hands brought him.

Weakly, he pulled at the bindings, wanting to touch her, but the fact that he couldn't touch her was what drove him even further over the edge of denying the situation.

Hermione moved so that she was no sitting astride his stomach, facing the swollen cock, blocking his view.

She leaned down and without him expecting it, moved her tongue to the skin just below the tip, facing him, stroking it hard and fast in that small spot.

Behind Hermione, Tom let out a hard gasp and then a small moan.

Merlin, she loved it when he moaned for her like that. Excitement flashed through her body, leaving her muscles down south at the beginning of their clenching towards being far more hornier than she already was.

Gripping the base as hard as she knew Tom was okay with, she covered her lips over his tip, sliding down so that she had the room to swirl her tongue slowly around his tip. Tom's body jerked in response, and another moan.

Hermione straightened herself, rolling to her side so that her breasts hidden behind her corset were pressed to his side, a silky leg twisting around his to let his body fully know just how trapped he was.

"Fuck," he hissed when she wrapped her hand around his cock again, this time tightly as she stroked it hard and fast.

She leaned up to his lips, smiling. "I bet you'd love to be inside me right now, wouldn't you, Tom," she suggested.

Tom let out a heavy breath, his eyes still closed. "Yes," he breathed. He soon opened his eyes to look at hers again.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum!" He shouldn't have said that.

Hermione quickly took her hand away, letting his stiff and throbbing cock to drop to his stomach.

She gave him a sarcastic pout, shaking her head. "Oh Tom," was all she said. She pressed her lips to his neck, biting down hard until he groaned.

When she knew the build up to his orgasm had past, she grabbed his cock again, but stroking it achingly slow as she kissed where she bit.

"You'd love me to be writhing beneath you right now, wouldn't you, Tom? As you fucked me fast and hard?"

He moaned shakily in response, tilting his head away from her as if he was giving her further access to his neck.

She continued to suck, probably even working towards marking him for a few days, but she kept stroking him slowly regardless. He was so hot and warm beneath her hand that a part of her really wish she was writhing beneath him while he fucked her long and hard as well.

"Moaning for you," she said in almost a moaning voice.

Merlin, she loved his cock. She loved the silkiness of the thick, long shaft, how it was all hers, how it was only hers to accept inside her, mouth or vagina.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" he said, his voice breaking as another moan escaped him when she stroked a little faster.

"Not going to beg yet?"

"Fuck you," was his response as he turned to glare at her.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "You might be able to later."

Tom knew well he couldn't fuck her unless she gave him permission, which is what left a dangerous flicker of emotions to pass through his green eyes.

She stroked him long, hard, fast again, smiling as Tom's body wiggled, writhing beneath her touch as he moaned.

"You want to cum?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah? You wanna cum for me? You want me to milk you?"

"Yeah," his voice was hoarse now.

"Yeah?"

She could feel his cock tensing and she let go, causing an angry and sexually frustrated growl to erupt from Tom's throat.

"You wench!" he spat at her.

Hermione only laughed, sitting up and leaning over so that she could take his cock into her mouth fully this time.

By now, Tom's cock was on fire, his body unable to keep still from how he wished he could just grab onto her hair and fuck her mouth into orgasm. Merlin, he just wanted to cum. And days upon days of no sexual relief had left him more desperate than he usually was before he would fuck his lover.

Hermione wasn't really waiting for him to beg for her to let him. She could care less about that kind of control. All she wanted to do was set him on edge and keep him there until she thought he was ready.

Once more.

Twice more.

She kept him on the edge of an orgasm, never letting him go. And he hadn't even gotten to begging her yet, which was what kept the "game" so fun.

"The heat, the wetness…" she murmured to him as she continued to edge him and he moaned at her words. "Do you realize how wet I am right now for you?"

She was sitting on his legs now and suddenly, just to see how much more he could really take, and how much control she had over herself, she raised herself up on her knees and visibly pushed aside her panties to show him just how wet she really was. A little dot of wetness had clung to her panties, leaving him breathing heavy and looking at her with the same amount of lust he had in his eyes before their very first time. She had almost forgotten what it looked like.

She went and angled herself over him, one hand keeping her panties to the side and the other hand angling his cock, which was now seeping of precum, to her opening. He made a feral noise in the back of his throat, trying to moving his hips to jerk himself up into her, but the binding at his wrists, had traveled to his hips, forcing him flat to the mattress. She allowed him only to feel the wetness of her opening. He growled louder this time, sexual frustration all over his face.

To test him even more further, she let go of him, moving the hand that was just holding his throbbing cock now to where her swept-aside panties had left her bare to him. With her legs parted like how they were, he had perfect eye contact of her swollen clit. She pressed her fingers to it, gasping loudly for him.

"You love it when I cum, Tom. I know you do," she said in a heavy voice.

"Just let me fuck you already."

Hermione giggled evilly, forcing herself off of him before she lost her own control and jammed him into her. Throbbing for pleasure, she pulled her clothes off slowly, stripping for him until he was writhing again, wanting pleasure. Completely naked now, she mounted him again, Grabbing his cock and burying it between her folds so that it sat up against her opening, her clit. She had to work hard on keeping her own control when she grinded slowly against him, brushing her wetness onto the throbbing cock. She shivered and she shook from how good felt. And he saw.

Tom wanted so very badly to grab onto her hips and to just push into her. He imagined how easily it would be, for how wet she could feel she was just from his cock riding against her private parts.

She moved away when she already felt her own orgasm on the brink of building up.

_Fuck it._

In a blink of an eye, she was stroking him tightly and fast, making him moan.

"You better let me cum, Hermione Granger," he said firmly, shakily. She could hear the desperation in his tone and that was enough.

She kept pumping his cock until he let out a loud moan, spilling onto her hand and onto his stomach. She kept pumping him until she felt him go soft.

Upset that she didn't let him cum inside her, that she had just edged him like that, for nearly a good half hour, that she had just toyed with his mind like that, Tom laid there angry and panting. It was a strong orgasm, one of his best— he'll admit that but only to himself.

He jolted when after about five minutes of silence and him refusing to look at her, Hermione had wrapped her mouth around his cock, wanting to lick him clean. He looked down at her, watching her clean up the cum from his cock, from her hand, and from his stomach.

Fuck, that's hot, Tom declared in his mind.

And just as soon as he had came, he was hardening back up again. And he could tell Hermione felt it from the way she was bobbing her head up and down easily and how she just suddenly slowed down.

She let go of him and looked up at him, smiling. "So. How was that?"

"A surprise, I'll give it that," he said with raised eyebrows.

Hermione grabbed her wand and flicked it, thinking it to be safe to let him go. She ignored her want for him, thinking Tom had enough for one night and a hot bath would be enough to get her off satisfactually.

But the moment Tom felt his wrists go free, he had grabbed onto her waist, making so many movements Hermione was confused until they had stopped. She was beneath him now and he was above her, a hand on her throat.

He gripped her, but not threateningly— just enough to where he knew he'd deepen the aroused state she was originally going to leave herself in.

"You better be prepared," he told her in a stressed, emotional, angry voice.

Hermione looked up at him with dilated eyes, feeling him reach between them so that he grabbed his cock, pressing the head to her throbbing clit.

She tried not to make a noise of response, but it was no use. A shaky whine left her throat, her eyebrows arching up together.

Like earlier, this intimate touch, genital-on-genital, felt overwhelming. It had been so long since he touched her at all that it left her breathless, left her confounded with so much pleasure that she itched for orgasm, her eyes even watering at just how heightened the pleasure was.

As if automatic, her legs spread wide open for him, wanting to closest feeling to her clit she could get from him.

"We need to fuck more often," he declared aloud.

Hermione just nodded her head, agreeing with him immediately.

He was pressing his head against her clit softly, not the hard way he knew she disliked, and it was the perfect amount of pleasure for her. He kept stroking his head against her clit. Once, twice— she came undone, crying out.

No sooner did she cry out did he ram his once-again throbbing cock into her. Yes, he usually waited for permission, but that cry of pleasure was enough permission for him to know she wanted him inside her.

And she did. The penetration shocked her to where after her orgasmed cry, she gasped and cried out his name, feeling him fuck her so hard his balls bounced against her cheeks, feeling him fill her up all the way and hitting her hilt with an angrily sexual slam, the headboard of the bed hitting the wall with each fast thrust.


	7. Intimidated

**Prompt:** The movie In Secret.

**Warnings:** Mature Content and mention of Dramione

* * *

**Intimidated**

She was kind. Far too kind. And Tom hated it. Not because it was obnoxious, but because it made him like her more than he already did, which was something odd for even him, the Dark Lord, to admit.

"Just let me know if you're uncomfortable," she said too cheerily. He sneered at her. He made sure she assumed he didn't like her. And he liked the fact that he made her feel intimidated – he could see it in her brown eyes.

Those brown eyes were so intoxicating...

"I can perhaps transfer you to another room if you'd wish. There's more blankets in the wardrobe over there if you get cold." Hermione had just pointed to a large mahogany wardrobe in the corner.

Tom followed her into the bathroom, which was larger than what he had expected. He assumed this was the main guest bedroom.

"There's fresh towels, soap..." Hermione turned to look up at Tom.

Tom looked down at her over his nose, keeping his head held high. He heard her catch her breath in one short suck. He curled his lip inwards as he saw her tremble.

He nearly lost it when he saw her pale cheeks go pink, but was thankful when she turned away and escaped from the bathroom. She pointed to a closet on her way to the door that led out to the grand hallway.

"There's extra oil lamps in there if you decided you wanted to work. But if you need anything my h-husband and I will be just down the hallway," she murmured. He inwardly chuckled at her stutter when calling Malfoy her husband. He felt she was unhappy, which was to be expected, being that she was married to a ghastly man like Malfoy.

She didn't even look back at him.

_How rude_.

She quickly closed the door behind her, taking a moment outside. Tom heard her walk away just a moment after she closed the door.

He sneered at her through the closed the door and turned his head to look around the bedroom. For Malfoy manor, the place sure was spacious and yet comfortable. He hadn't been here since his internship at the company, but since the news of the marriage, he could see that Hermione had added in warm touches to what was once a cold place.

He froze at the sight of a painting hanging on the wall next to the closet door. It was the painting he had complimented days ago, when he had come over for dinner – the dark, eerie painting for Hogwarts in twilight. He took a step closer to it, still sneering, only this time with hatred. His face relaxed when he saw the initials at the bottom right corner when he got closer.

_H.M._

_Bloody hell_.

The girl was a painter, and a very good one at that. He sat down on the too-comfortable bed and sighed, pulling at his bowtie and then shrugging from his newly tailored jacket.

* * *

He closed the door behind him, angry with himself that he had staid up a good portion of the night to be this tired. He straightened his jacket, ready to head downstairs to get an early start on the paperwork like Malfoy had asked of him when he heard humming.

He turned his head to look down the end of the hallway just as he had come close to the stairs leading down to the foyer. As if without control, he followed the voice. Looking around, there were no house elves around to spy on him. So he edged closer.

The door to the Malfoy bedroom was cracked, the singing voice louder now. He could identify it as Hermione's, which made his lips tilt into a half-smile. The girl was artistically talented with both the hands and vocal chords. It made him wonder what else she could peered into the cracked door and saw an un-maid bed, a pale green nightgown strewn across the bed's covers, and a dress hanging from the closet by the bed. He opened the door, thankful for no creaks.

Foolishly, he walked into the room, following the voice further until he peered into the bathroom. In a clawfoot bathtub was Hermione Malfoy, naked. She was sitting straight up in the porcelain, allowing the soapy water to mask everything below her rib cage.

But one glance at her perky breasts had left him hard. He wanted to see the rest of her. Thankful of just the cracked door, he shifted a little, sighing softly.

She sounded as if she were singing Jo Stafford's "_You Belong to Me,_" a beautiful melody for Hermione to hum.

Tom realized how badly he wanted her. For days, since he met her, he had been sexually frustrated. It had even led him to fuck Bellatrix Lestrange, an old childhood friend who had cared nothing for anymore.

He wondered if Hermione felt the same way about him.

There was no doubt of that blush to explain it last night. Carefully, he walked away, heading out of the room, and then shakily, rushing down the stairs to meet Malfoy in his office.


	8. Love

**Prompt:** None

**Warnings:** Fluffy!Tom

* * *

**Love**

Hermione tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear calmly, the sound of the lake beside her the only thing heard besides the tense silence between her and Tom. They stared at each other, unmoving for what had felt like the entire Saturday afternoon.

"I know you. Inside out," he said after a while.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and escaped his stone-cold gaze to focus on a fish picking at a rock in the shoreline. "Is there anything you _don't _know?" she tested.

"Love." Tom was too quick to answer, as if he wanted Hermione to do something about it. And she was fully aware of such a word to be so foreign to the young Dark Lord. She dared to say anything of it.

Slowly, Hermione met his eyes again, tilting her head to the side before Tom reached out and brushed aside a strand of hair that was caught in the corner of her mouth. The minute his finger grazed her skin, she shivered with hatred. Not hatred for him, but hatred for herself, for feeling these things for such a man.

"Aren't you going to say anything? You always have something to say." There was a heat in his voice. Not as violent as the usual, but more desperate and changing with the hint of emotion he rarely showed.

Hermione shook her head, failing to tear her eyes from him.

"If I try this, I could hurt you. I could leave you. I could make a fool out of myself."

Hermione reached out and touched his cheek softly, watching him freeze from the contact before he hurriedly reached up and covered her hand with his, leaning into her hand as if he had been deprived of such caring contact. His cheek was flushed, his hand warm and large compared to hers. It felt right.

"I don't care," she told him as a tear filled with worry and guilt escaped her right eye. She didn't care, but she knew she should.


	9. The Accident

**Prompt:** House M.D.

**Warnings:** Blood

* * *

**The Accident**

**What Happened After:**

Hermione was leaning against the doorway as she looked over at the bruised and broken person in the hospital bed. The green eyes opened and looked at her with a blankness.

"Why did you save me?" she asked him.

He didn't know how to say it, but Hermione saw it in his eyes.

She walked over to him, her face crunching as a few tears escaped. Carefully, she laid down beside him in the bed. He weakly wrapped his arm around her and leaned his chin into her forehead and allowed her to sob into the shoulder of his hospital gown without a word.

**What Happened Before:**

"This was stupid," Hermione hissed as she urged the bag of books into Tom's arms. She had just gotten off her shift at Borgin and Burkes and was ready to head home to her flat in central London. Sadly, Tom lived near her, allowing him access to riding with her on the bus.

"It wouldn't have been 'stupid' if you did it," Tom pointed out to her as he followed her to the Leaky Cauldron to head to the bus stop. They'd take the Knight Bus, but Hermione insisted on using the Muggle transportation.

(Later, it will have been proven a bloody wasteful idea.)

Hermione left Leaky Cauldron and entered the cold, wet alleyway with Tom at her heel.

"I did it because if I didn't I would have heard about it for months on end in Transfigurations." She was trying to be angry, really she was.

_Hateful man_.

"You're cute when you're angry."

"Don't toy with me, Riddle." She was able to force the anger out more now, allowing her voice to make her seem highly annoyed. It made Tom smirk.

"I'm surprised you did this. Given the subject of the books."

Hermione said nothing and waited at the bus stop, pulling her pea coat closer to her as she messed with her scarf Mrs. Weasley had recently woven her.

"I'm surprised. For a girl with so much morals, you push so much aside for me. I feel flattered."

"Yeah? Well don't be," was all Hermione could say.

Right on time, the bus arrived and Tom and Hermione mounted it.

Tom took the last empty seat with a smug smile, forcing Hermione to stand. A crippled man offered up his seat to her but she declined out of politeness and care. Unlike _bloody Riddle_.

A few more people came on, standing near the back and heading up to the second floor of the bus, and the bus was soon in motion.

Tom opened the bag, sneaking a glance on the inside before he nodded his head. Hermione had been watching his impressed look and rolled her eyes as she stared straight ahead.

"Hermione." There was something in Tom's voice that made her furrow her eyebrows and turn her head to look at his widened eyes.

* * *

The bus must have done at least three barrel rolls across the street, people laying injured and dead. Hermione was holding on to the bottom of one of the nearby benches, heaving from the air getting knocked out of her. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth, her neatly knotted hair messed up and bumpy with a gash in the top right corner of her forehead. A piece of glass was sticking from her shoulder when she zeroed in on her left thigh. A piece of the metal sign from the bus's interior was sticking halfway out of her skin, blood oozing from it.

She put her free hand to her thigh. It was numb and the most painful thing all at the same time. She began crying. Was she dying? She went to grab her wand to help herself but found her wand missing. There, across the space, next to a crawling Tom – her wand, broken and useless.

For a moment, her heart broke at the sight, but then she looked to Tom. No doubt from the way he was crawling, he had a broken ankle. He moved himself over to her though, but she didn't question it.

She just cried.

Tom crawled until he was right beside her. He weakly yanked the scarf from her neck without a word and created a tourniquet above the wound in her thigh.

Police sirens filled their ears along with ambulances and firetrucks. Hermione's vision began blurring, mostly from the loss of blood.

Tom cupped her face with a bloody hand. "Stay with me," he urged in a stressed voice. He was just as weak as she was.

Things after that were blurry. But from what she remembered, only one ambulance was left and Tom gave up his spot on it for Hermione with a promise of one to return for him.


	10. Silence

**Prompt:** None

**Warnings:** None

* * *

**Silence**

Tom watched her. He watched her silence. He watched her with a simple, wry smile. And he watched her with wonder. He didn't need to hear her say how incredible this room was. He didn't need to read her body language. All he had to do was look into her eyes and see the brightness. Hermione and Tom both knew that by now, they could read each other perfectly one way or another.

It was just the way it was between them anymore.

Her long, delicate fingers dragged across the various spines of the books that filled the large room's walls, looking all around with a wide, open smile.

The library was a room as big as a master bedroom with every single wall adorning built-in shelves. The shelves were so filled that if Tom were to buy any new books, he would need to expand or start a second library in another room of his house.

On every shelf was a simple, thin wooden ladder reaching to the ceiling and able to roll across the length of the wall it was built on.

In the middle was a large gray rug with a Slytherin crest upon it as if Tom was proud of it being his House. Not that he shouldn't, Hermione quickly decided. Among the rugs was one dark brown leather lounge chair and a matching two-seat couch.

A book caught Hermione's eyes and carefully, she pulled it out from the shelf, looking to the back to read the summary. It was a paperback book, worn from being read so many times. No doubt it was either a favorite or something Tom had come across at one of the secondhand bargain book outlets nowadays.

Quietly, she padded her bare feet across the wooden floor, onto the rug and at the farthest end of the couch, sitting down long-ways so that her back rested against the armrest.

Tom pushed himself off of the library's doorway, walking over to the couch. Beside the couch was a small, mahogany round table with a thick book with a bookmark sticking out of nearly the middle. Before he picked it up, he sat down just as Hermione briefly moved her feet. She went to put her feet on her lap when Tom grabbed her waist rather gently, sliding her around so that she could rest her head on her lap. She did so and opened up the book she chose as Tom grabbed his book, opening it up to continue.

They both read in silence as Tom held the book open near the lamp, the other hand stroking Hermione's hair she had let down at her arrival to his house.

For one moment, he looked at her. And at feeling his gaze, she looked back at him. They shared a small, adoring smile, and returned to their readings.

They read until Hermione's stomach made an angry, hungry growl and Tom finished his book off. Setting it down to put away later and getting up to lead Hermione into his kitchen where he cooked for her as she sat on the counter beside him, watching him work and chewing on a slice of pepper. They shared a few glances here and there, until at the end of the night, they walked into his room and he locked the door shut.


	11. Between Death and Living

**Prompt:** None

**Warnings:** None

* * *

**Beween Death and Living**

Hermione had ran as far away as she could. She put up her tent, the protective ward, even the silencing charm _for _the ward. She was _sure _no one would come looking for her here, deep in one of the many woods of the United Kingdoms, far away from London.

She sat in her tent quiet and alone, hugging her knees tight to her chest in hopes that it'd comfort her.

This wasn't living.

But she feared death too much to give up.

She watched her fire die out, sighing as she got up to leave the tent to get more wood. She was cold, shivering in two layers of jumpers. She peaked her head out of the tent, looking around the twilight-drenched forest. No sign of _anything_.

She left the tent, making it quick to hurry over to the little pile of twigs and thick branches.

She was just about to grab onto one more branch to add to what she could carry when she heard a twig snap. She froze, her eyes widening as she looked ahead.

_Tom_.

He had his wand raised, his eyes looking all over the place. He looked muddy, as if he had been traveling a while, and he was alone.

"I know you're here, 'Mione," he called out.

Her heart quickened, her chest tightening as she forgot to breathe.

_No no no no not yet..._

She watched as he waved his wand and she stood there, frozen until his eyes landed on her after the ward visibly fell.

_No_. Tears welled up in her eyes.

For a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other.

Until Hermione dropped the branches and booked it.

Leaving her tent, her valuables behind, she was running towards anywhere that she could. But she heard Tom hiss a hex, sending her falling a few feet away from him as she let out a scream and then a groan as her body hit the cold, leafy earth. She looked to her feet to see twisting ropes disappearing from her ankles.

She had her wand in grip, knuckles colorless as she glared up at Tom, who was lazily approaching.

"I've been looking all over for you, you know."

She knew now that there was no escape.

"Go ahead and kill me," were the first words to escape her mouth. She hadn't spoken in weeks that her voice came out as scratchy and hoarse, weak.

Tom let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head as he smiled at her wickedly. "Oh my dear Hermione...it doesn't have to be like this you know."

She spat in his face and he froze once the warm saliva hit his upper cheek. His smile fell into an angry frown, his lips pursed slightly and his jaw tightened, but he did nothing about it but wipe it away.

She knew very much how this could be. But she refused.

"You could come join me. You could be my mistress. I could let you live..."

"You? Letting a Muggle-born live?" She laughed at his face and got up shakily. She still had her wand out to be ready if he should try and send a spell her way again. She'd be ready this time.

"My followers don't question my motives anymore. You're what I want. And I _always _get what I want, Hermione. You of all people should know that."

Hermione said nothing, still glaring at him until he reached a hand out and roughly grabbed her wrist, pulling her against his chest as he looked down at her. He smelled of earth and spearmint. She let out a shaky breath but didn't pull away. Surely if she did, he'd hex her again and he'd be too quick and close for her to stop it.

But his lips were on hers and it had been long since- no. Not just long. It had been _too _long since she had felt the spark ignite between their lips as he devoured her mouth, the hand that had once held his wand, cupping her dirt-splattered cheek.

She had missed this so much that tears splatted her, running down to her chin as she wrapped her arms around him once his hand had left her now-bruised wrist.

This wasn't living. She wanted to live.

And if serving under the man she loved, regardless of how detestable she was of him and his motives, she would do it. Because it had been proven now that she couldn't live without him.


	12. Asset

**Prompt:** None

**Warnings:** Suggestive Content

* * *

**Asset**

Hermione didn't want to admit it. And neither did Tom. It was only inevitable that things would turn out for the worse.

She just had to keep her mouth shut and go along with things.

Tom would leave his followers, give them missions, whatever it took to spread his power throughout all of the witches and wizards in the world. Hermione followed with the others in silence, only agreeing to do anything but kill people.

At first she thought Tom was bluffing when he told her she could be their maid. But soon she found out he was testing her. Yes, she could do so much more, but what could Tom do that she couldn't besides kill people? She was just as smart as him, just as book-based as the mind of the Dark Lord...

Everyone knew it. Even Tom and Hermione – that Hermione should just be the mistress. She could lead this group of followers just as well as Tom could.

But both denied it. It just worked that way.

They even had to deny their feelings for each other. In the flesh, they spat at each other with words of hate and coldness. But alone, all they could think about was:

_What would her lips taste like?_

_What would it be like to kiss him?_

_Is her skin as soft as it appears?_

_What would it feel like to be wrapped up in his arms?_

Nights upon nights, Hermione laid in her four-poster bed staring out the nearby window at the grounds of Riddle Mansion thinking about him. He was just a few doors down. She thought about his eyes, how they looked at her when no one was looking. She thought about how of all people, he tolerates her the most. Why? Was it because he knew just as well as everyone else that she was a perfect asset to this cause? Was it because he had just as strong of feelings for her as she did him?

Some nights she tossed and turned, thinking of scenario upon scenario of her and Tom. Some nights, she made up scenes where he's kissing her and they're just loving each other the way all lovers should. Others, it's just them spilling out their feelings for each other.

But Tom wasn't the type to spill his feelings out. He wasn't the type for feelings in general.

Other nights she falls asleep easily, mentally exhausted from keeping up with Tom and his temper.

But there were nights she itched to knock on his door, imagining finding him at his desk writing or even better, reading. She imagined him dressed down, lounging on his bed with a half-read book in his long fingers and strong palms.

She loved him...

Even though she hated the bloody fuck out of him.

* * *

Hermione entered the kitchen where she eyed a few of the House Elves. One of them smiled to her, quickly piling food onto a plate and bringing it to her at the kitchen table. Tom sat across the way with an opened newspaper and a smug smile.

"The others are still out?" Hermione questioned as she thanked the elf and dug into her scrambled eggs.

Tom quickly folded the newspaper and sat it aside to take a bite of his toast.

"For a few more days, it seems."

Hermione hated this. She should have gone with them. Merlin knows Abraxas was poor with directions, Bellatrix being poor with judgement, and Avery poor with speaking his mind when he thought something to be wrong and in need of being corrected. They needed her and she was stuck here with Riddle, who was taking a few days vacation from joining the group with his missions. Hermione was to stay with him to help him out with... Merlin knows what!

Hermione quietly nodded her head and took a sip of her orange juice.

"Care to read?" Tom asked her as he cut up some of his ham.

Hermione had been asked this a few times before. But it was only rare. Either when it was evening or when the two were up before the others for some times.

Hermione thought back on the book she was currently reading.

"Of course."

After breakfast, the two headed to the small library, a master bedroom-sized room with a locked door. Tom was serious about his book collection.

Hermione picked up the book she had been reading, smiling down at it as Tom had just grabbed his, heading with her out into the family room.

Hermione was just about to grab onto the doorknob when Tom came up to her, pushing it shut after she had just opened it. She paused, looking up at him with a questioning look.

"Hermione..." His eyes were dilated, focused on her lips. She nearly gasped from this.

"Tom..."

Pushing herself onto her tiptoes, she slowly kissed him, waiting for him to push her away. He never did.

When she was back down on the flats of her feet, she looked up at him to read his expression. She hadn't any time since in an instant, their books were dropped, his arms were around her, and he pushed her into the side of the wall that stood just before the closest bookshelf. The wooden paneling dug into her back as he kissed her roughly, promising bruises as he kissed her with hunger, biting her lip, sucking on it, delving his tongue beneath her silk lips.

His hands were at every inch of her, her hair, her neck, her shoulders, her chest, her waist, her hips, her arse...he couldn't get enough of her, it was all so intoxicating. She grabbed back at him in response, pulling on his hair violently to crush herself closer to him as her body formed solidly against his.

They needed each other besides the power they possessed. Yes, Hermione was amazing with her spells, her curses, even her weekly practice duels with Tom. But he needed her right beside him, as his mistress, to be able to _think _clearly.

He tugged at her jumper, allowing it to plop to the wood flooring like a ringlet in a puddle. Next came her blouse, her skirt, and everything else.


	13. In a World Like This Part 1

**Prompt:** None

**Warnings:** None

* * *

**In a World Like This: Part 1 of 2**

The theater had just dimmed when Hermione smoothed her hands down the backside of her skirt before she sat down in the red cushioned seat next to Ginny.

Thankful for the comfort of the auditorium's seating, she looked over to Ginny, leaning in to whisper in the red-haired girl's ear.

"You owe me for this," she whispered unhappily.

Ginny said nothing and just gave her a very crossed look, rolling her eyes.

The curtains opened, and the auditorium burst into applause as a slender man with high-quality features in a professionally tailored suit, dark hair and a serious expression, entered the stage.

Hermione and Ginny had front row seat tickets. Hermione would have been happy sitting on the balcony, at a distance, but now she was able to really see this man, who millions of females fanned themselves over, up close.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, who had been playing the violin since he knew what he was doing when he moved the bow over the strings. He was graceful and passionate, or so Hermione had heard. But Hermione wanted to judge for herself.

First of all, this man looked dark. He had a grim expression, dark green eyes, a cleanly shaven face to show the full thin line he forced his lips to create. He didn't look happy, she instantly noticed.

But he did seem focused, professional.

Hermione was the only one who was clapping the least. She looked up at him on stage with an unfazed face.

Next, a man, whom Hermione identified as Tom's companion for certain songs, came on stage with his platinum blond hair combed back flat, prominent blond eyebrows, and an easy smile. He came on holding a cello carefully, sitting down on a given seat near Tom as the two exchanged a look, nodding once.

Instantly, perfectly possessed notes filled Hermione's ears.

Hermione searched the names of the pieces in the pamphlet sitting in her hand.

_"A Postcard to Henry Purcell" composed by Jean-Yves Thibaudet_

Her eyes scanned the other songs he'd be playing, rather impressed with his choices. She'd never admit it to Ginny in fear of hearing, "I told you so," for the hundredth time.

_"L'Verno" Violin Concerto in F Minor, composed by Antonio Vivaldi_

_"The Opening" transcribed by Tom Marvolo Riddle for Violin and Cello, composed by Atli Orvarsson_

_"We Move Lightly" transcribed by Tom Marvolo Riddle for Violin and Cello, composed by Dustin O'Halloran_

_"Looking Back" transcribed by Tom Marvolo Riddle for Violin, transcribed by Abraxas Malfoy for Cello, composed by Kerry Muzzey_

Hermione stopped there and huffed a sigh, looking up at Tom. The man had talent, unless he was magically faking it. But in such a situation, it was so impossible to fake such a talent.

She held her unimpressed face, staring at the man shake with his chords as she saw a curl of dark hair fall loose from its perfect shape.

Suddenly, their eyes met.

She remained unmoved, despite the jolt her stomach made from the fact that Tom Riddle, a famous person, was looking directly at her. Everyone suddenly faded away as she focused harder than before to keep her expression placid.

The entire performance, his eyes were on her, save for when he'd finish a song, look to the audience, and bow with a fake, thin smile before he'd start on a new song with Abraxas.

After the curtains closed and the lights around the theater brightened, Hermione got to her feet shakily. She hadn't realized how her legs had turned to jelly from being under his gaze for so long.

"What was that all about?" Ginny asked with a look mixed with confusion and concern.

"What was what about?" Hermione asked in return, pretending she didn't know what her best friend meant. She hooked her arm with Ginny's as they got in line of the large crowd working their way to the back exits of the theater. Hermione sucked in a breath, feeling as if her lungs would collapse at any moment. He nearly took her breath away.

"Don't play that with me," Ginny begged as she shook her head at Hermione. "Tom Riddle's eyes were on you the _entire_ show!" Did Hermione detect a jealous whine in there?

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh stop it, Ginny. I don't know what you're talking about."

Ginny shut up then.

When they made their way to the lobby, people got in line for the lavatories, and Hermione turned to Ginny with a forced smile she could wear so easily anymore.

"So what shall it be? A fancy restaurant or the local bar? It's on me."

Ginny's face turned thoughtful. "Well. I mean. I _am _hungry for-"

Ginny was interrupted when a figure stepped into their little circle. Instantly, a crowd flocked to them, two other men blocking them out with thick, long arms as the first figure pulled Hermione and Ginny's gaze.

Tom Riddle gave Ginny a small, patronizing smile. "Do you mind if I steal your friend away for the evening?"


	14. Through the Years

**Prompt:** None

**Warnings:** Suggestive Content

* * *

**Through the Years**

Tom Riddle and Hermione Granger had the most unusual relationship compared to anyone else's at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. When one grows up, they grow out of friends and into new ones like a pair of jeans. Rarely did people keep their friends. People like Tom and Hermione.

Hermione met Tom on January 21st, 1937, the day after her parent's death. She was broken and scattered, quiet and distant from the other children who tried to befriend her. But Tom wasn't like the other boys and girls. He had found Hermione in her room the night she arrived, crying her eyes out. He sat down on the side of her bed and said nothing. It was the silence of his presence that had stopped her from crying further. After minutes upon minutes, when her sobs had stopped, she turned over and looked over at Tom.

"I'm Hermione," she said with a small, scratchy voice. She sounded so sad. Tom knew how she felt.

"Tom." He laid down beside her. From how small she was, she left plenty of room on the bed for a second child. He stared up at the ceiling, listening to her breathing until she fell asleep and remained there until Mrs. Cole had found him.

The following morning, he returned to her, dragging her out of bed and down to breakfast.

Tom knew he wanted to befriend Hermione. There was something strange about her.

Some months later, an odd man named Dumbledore came to the orphanage and spoke to Hermione and Tom. The two children soon discovered that they were more different than the other children than they had thought. Hermione was a witch, and Tom a wizard, invited to attend a school called Hogwarts for other boys and girls like them.

And they went.

Hermione and Tom were inseparable.

Tom hated everyone but Hermione. She understood him as he understood her. While the other students picked on Hermione for being a know-it-all, and students picked on Tom for being quiet and "weird," the two found comfort in one another.

But a year later was when things began to change.

Hermione befriended two boys by the name of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. That was around the time when Tom started reading about Salazar Slytherin and his point of views on muggle-borns began altering and people in Tom's House began picking on Hermione for being a 'Mudblood'. It was his House's words that lead him to grow distant from her, questioning why on earth he was friends with her to begin with.

The next year, the two stopped speaking completely. Competition between Gryffindor, Hermione's House, and Tom's House Slytherin grew violent.

It was their fourth year when Tom called Hermione a 'Mudblood' to her face, earning him a spot in the small circle of purebloods run by a boy by the name Draco Malfoy. Hermione hid inside the girl's third floor lavatory for the entire day to cry her eyes out before Ron and Harry urged her to join them in going to dinner. That was the same year that Tom began bullying Hermione almost every day after he had called her that nasty name, calling her out on the smallest mistakes he watched her make. Before summer vacation, Tom's influence on his "friends" grew so much that he was soon the one leading it instead of Malfoy.

Fifth year came with the Triwizard Tournament and the Yule ball. That was also the year that Tom began to grow darker than what Hermione had known him to be. She watched him spend more and more time with the wrong lot, though she constantly asked herself why on earth she cared to begin with.

When the Yule Ball was announced, Hermione had secretly hoped that Tom would ask her to the Ball. She felt stupid to hope for such a silly thing, regardless of how Tom was always staring at her with a softer expression than he usually wore when he was picking on her, making a fool out of her in front of her classmates.

_Why. Did. She. Care._

She grew more and more furious after ending up disappointed when she found out he was going to the Ball with Malfoy's cousin Bellatrix. She accepted Ron's proposal to the Ball and went with a sad face. Of course at the ball, when Tom had realized how beautiful Hermione had grown, he had asked her to dance when Ron had grown tired and left for bed with Harry. Repulsed that such an ass would ask her, she declined.

That was when they finally began talking again. Only this time, with angry words.

They spat words at each other they instantly regretted but dared not show.

"Why are you being like this!"

"Because!" Hermione's face had turned red and they had to take the conversation outside in the snow. It was cold but Hermione used her shivering to fuel her anger. "What am I to you, Tom!"

Tom was quiet.

"You stopped talking to me!"

Tom snapped. "You started hanging out with those imbeciles!"

"Oh, you were just jealous!" And it was the truth. She knew it well.

"Well they _are_ in your House!"

"So? You don't think it didn't hurt me when you stopped talking to me?"

"You're such a hypocrite!"

"Well you called me a Mudblood!"

The screaming had stopped there.

They stared at each other with fiery eyes and quick, ghosting breaths before them. Tom had even plucked up the courage to step close to her. And for a moment, it seemed as if he were about to kiss her. Hermione had remained their, staring up at him. Of course she was still angry, but she wouldn't back out on a kiss from him. Why not, she wouldn't find out until the next year. Tom had quickly pulled back before anything would happen as he turned around and angrily walked away from her.

They didn't speak for the remainder of their fifth year at Hogwarts. But they did stare.

That summer, Mrs. Cole urged them to go out and find summer jobs. With little luck, Mrs. Cole managed to find them both a small job at a new Muggle bookshop nearby. Slowly, they began talking.

It wasn't until near the end of summer when Tom admitted he had done something foolish.

The Chamber of Secrets.

Horcrux.

Torturing Muggle-borns.

_Killing_ Muggle-borns.

As frightened as Hermione was at this news, all she could do was wrap her arms around the man that she had once thought would have forever been her best friend. Tom trusted her and she kept his promise from everyone who didn't know. That didn't mean she'd be friends with his followers, however, now that she knew these things. They became friendly, but nothing ever turning into a friendship.

By sixth year, Hermione became the only normal girl who hadn't had a shag with Tom Riddle. She assumed he was sleeping around to defuse the pain she saw in him on a daily basis. And each and every day for that full year, she watched him grow darker and darker.

What killed her the most was that she knew there was nothing she could do about it.

And when she heard about the murder of Tom's family (_traitors_, she thought whenever she thought of them), she knew it was Tom's doing.

It was one night when Hermione was alone soaking in the bathroom's soapy water did she have the revelation. She wanted to kick herself for how stupid and blind she had been.

Tom Riddle was Dark. He had always been that way, she realized. And that was just who he was, what had become of him after his family's tragic drama. But even though he was Dark, she couldn't help but love him. He was handsome. She knew his heart better than his "followers". And because of that, she just couldn't help but love that beautiful disaster.

But she'd never tell Tom. She had no knowledge on whether or not he'd feel the same way for her, or if for how Dark he was, he felt anything for her anymore.

Tom had so much influence over his followers that no one questioned his friendship with Hermione.

Night after night after her revelation, she thought back on the Yule Ball night when he almost kissed her.

Why hadn't he?

It wasn't until their seventh year when word reached Hermione that Tom had stopped sleeping around. No one knew why. Hermione didn't even see some horny girl strung around his neck anymore. But one night in the Astronomy Tower changed everything between Tom and Hermione.

"We might never see each other again after we graduate," Tom began as Hermione stood on the balcony. Tom was resting against the side of the opening to the balcony, staring at the back of her head. "I wanted to tell you this before it's too late."

Hermione stared down at the lake, quiet and aware.

"I love you Hermione. I fucking hate that I love you. Because I should hate you. I really should."

She looked down at her fingernails, wringing her hands together as she sucked in a shaky breath. Her stomach was too much in knots for her to breathe properly.

"Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you!" yelled Tom as he marched on over to Hermione, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her around to face him.

Their eyes met and Hermione was defeated. She cried. Not because she was terrified of Tom's bruising grip, but because it felt like she had waited an eternity to hear that from him. And it brought her so much happiness all at once she couldn't handle it.

Tom cupped her face. His touch felt like electric bolts shocking Hermione. He saw her defeat.

She rested her free hand on his chest, gently running her hand over his tie until she reached the buttons to his blazer. She slid her hand up to his neck, hesitating before she touched his face.

And then he was kissing her. She was instantly kissing him back, battling him as she gripped tightly to the collar of his blazer. He had let go of her wrist, tangling his slender fingers in her messy hair. The kiss was violent, hungry, not enough. The two had waited too long for this.

Tom turned Hermione towards the opening to the inside of the tower, working the buttons of her oxford and Hermione urging his blazer from his shoulders. He found a broom closet and made it theirs for the evening.

The following year, Tom set out on a journey to travel the world in hopes of it curing his Dark side. Hermione, loving him more than ever, talking him into letting her join him, agreed to postpone taking the open post at Hogwarts as the new DADA professor.


	15. Chaotic

**Prompt:** Switched

**Warnings:** None

* * *

**Chaotic**

"_Hermione, don_-" As soon as Tom's screaming voice had hit Hermione's ears, it was too late.

In Hermione's hand was a small, fragile peach-tinted glass shell-shaped box of some sort. Was it a music box? A jewelry box? A box for safe keeping? Whatever it was, it was chaotic and Hermione had just opened it.

One minute Tom was was running towards Hermione, his hand out ready to snatch the box from her hands. The next, he was staring down at the very box, his body being plummeted into the earth by the shore of the lake in front of Hogwarts.

"What the _bloody hell _did you do!" he screeched. But it wasn't his voice that were saying these words. It was Hermione's.

He looked over to find his body covered in mud. The box sat between them, chipped and broken apart.

"I-" Hermione said as Tom.

Their eyes met and panic spread between them. Whatever was in the box had switched their bodies.

And it wasn't good one bit.


	16. Not Today

**Prompt:** "Over You" - Daughtry

**Warnings:** Suggestive Content

* * *

**Not Today**

_"You're nothing but a Mudblood."_

Months later, those words still stuck into her heart like a dagger. _His _dagger, and she could easily be found in her bedroom crying her eyes out. She had grown so used to that name, but to hear it from the one person who she built her world around, who had made her into the strong lioness...

She didn't feel like a strong lioness anymore. She felt nothing more than a weakling, a runt.

As she laid in bed, nights upon nights, she'd think hard on where everything went wrong. She didn't need a scientist to see that it went wrong the moment they meant, the moment she let him take her, the moment he had her hooked on him like a drug, the moment she thought she was in love with him.

Maybe she was in love with him. No one would know.

Months after that, she started hanging with her friends more, trying her best to move on. And it was then that closure began setting in.

Except for the day he showed back up at her door.

"Tom."

"Hermione."

Her heart ached just looking at him. Would she get through the day? Her bottom lip quivered, but she made sure no tear would show.

"Are you going to let me in or make me stand out here freezing my arse off."

She stepped aside without a word and let him in. Tom walked into the living room and she followed.

"What do you want."

"I miss you," he quickly told her. There was nothing sincere about it. The "miss you" part sounded more like a statement, like he needed her back as his own personal gain.

She wanted sincerity though. She wanted flowers and chocolates and all kinds of shit that could symbolize whatever undying love she once though he had for her.

But not today.

Cold words, she decided they were.

She stared at his face. He was always handsome, _sexy_. He had light green eyes very few people adorned, dark wavy black hair he always had combed back a certain way. His skin was ivory, his cheekbones high and his lips the most perfect shape. There were days she wanted to just kiss him endlessly, to submit her body to him night after night. But not tonight.

Not today.

And only then did she realize it. The closure had settled within her heart. It was there, plain and simple. She was over Tom Riddle, the lesson in her life.


	17. Closure

Prompt: Anagapesis

Warnings: Suggestive Content

* * *

**Closure**

It took months upon months, even moments upon moments for this to turn out the way it did. Hermione was his. _All his_. He would never forget (and he knew he'd never forget) all those days he had to restrain himself — the days where they'd be caught up in the moment, the days where he swore to hell and back he'd sell his soul to taste her lips, to feel if they were as soft as they looked. All those nights of restless sleep because he couldn't get her out of his mind, he couldn't stop thinking about making her his.

"Did you love him?" he asked her one night when tangled together, naked.

"I did," she began as he watched his eyes leave hers to stare at the wall, "at first." His eyes found hers again.

"At first?"

"I loved Ron. A while ago. But it wasn't until I met you that I began seeing that…him and I wouldn't work. I'm not sure it ever did."

"So you don't love him anymore."

"No. I love _you_."


	18. Worn Through

Prompt: "Beside You" - Marianas Trench

Warnings: None

* * *

**Worn Through**

"You're pathetic," Bellatrix said with her nose scrunched in disgust.

For months this had gone on. For months Hermione was being broken down piece by piece. And by now, she couldn't take anymore. She'd cry if she allowed herself, but no matter how weak she felt at that moment, she was strong enough to keep the tears held back.

"Stop it, Bellatrix," Tom snapped as he entered the room, eyeing the two.

"I can't believe you're with a girl like this. It's honestly a w-" Bellatrix's words were cut off when Tom slapped her across the face.

Bella's head turned from the collision, her long black locks hiding her face as she cupped her stricken cheek. She froze there from a moment, probably from the shock.

"Hermione, go to the common room. I'll meet you there."

Hermione didn't ask anything. She just wrapped her arms around herself and walked away, hearing Tom say, "Get the fuck to dinner Bellatrix and stop making a fool out of yourself by picking on people better than you. Jealousy won't get you anywhere."

Hermione had been curled up on the sofa by the fire for a while, the common room empty from everyone being at dinner. Tom had come in, looking at her with a frown.

"I'm not doing any better trying to fit in with your followers," she told him with a blank expression.

"You must give them time. They're not used to a M-" He stopped himself. He sighed when Hermione showed a flash of hurt in her eyes. Her Master had almost called her that one name.

He came over and sat down beside her, forcing her to come over to him and rest against him as he held her.

"I'm mentally exhausted from all the bullying."

"I know."

Hermione melted into his embrace and closed her eyes. This was exactly what she needed.


	19. Goosebumps

Prompt: Eve's garden

Warning: Suggestive Content

* * *

**Goosebumps**

It was against her better judgment, and even everything she had built herself up to stand for. It was just _wrong_. It felt like the greatest sin of all time.

But she loved him.

At least she thought she did.

He never brought her the harm she watched him bring everyone else. Yes, she had forced her into harmful things ever now and then, but _it didn't matter_.

Her stomach jolted every time she saw him. She couldn't keep still when his arms were around her, and better yet, the nights she spent with him in bed, she counted as the best days of her life. Alright, maybe not the best _days _but _moments_. She would cherish them forever, no matter what would come of them.

Hermione was laying on her stomach, staring at the fireplace at the end of the room. She watched the flames dance as she shivered under the teasing touch of Tom's hands ghosting over her bare back. He reached under the covers and firmly grasped onto her one ass cheek, leaning over and kissing her neck as his breath touched her ear. Her skin was covered in goosebumps in seconds.

_This is wrong_, she kept thinking. But no matter how many times she thought it, it would never mean anything. Nothing could mean any more than what his touches meant.


	20. Of Suffering and Hell

**Prompt:** "The Devil Within" by Digital Daggers; "but I've crept into your heart / you can't make me disappear"

**Warnings:** Smut; bdsm, torture, rough sex, edging

* * *

**Of Suffering and Hell**

Hermione's wrists were bound to the posts above her head, her hair down and wild with her head resting gently against the comfortable pillows. Her dilated brown eyes were on Tom and only him.

"This is payback," Tom whispered to her. He stood before her in what he knew she loved him best in - white oxford rolled up to the elbows at the sleeves, no tie, just a few buttons undone to reveal the beginning of his perfectly sculpted chest she had so many times imagined running her nails over, and the rest of his Hogwarts uniform. It was the Tom that so many times made her bite her lip and imagine him fucking her roughly.

"Payback for what?" she asked innocently. She was nearly naked before him, save for her unbuttoned oxford and Gryffindor jumper brushed aside to show her plump breasts, hardened nipples, and glistening navel. Her skirt sat just below her hips, no panties, no stockings just those three articles of clothing. It was her Gryffindor tie and his Slytherin tie that held her wrists to the posts.

"For the hell you've put me through." His eyes were dark in the firelight. The room was empty with just the fireplace to set things aglow.

He didn't have to touch her, but she was already wet for him, shivering in anticipation.

"How long has it been since you last came, Hermione?" he asked her, slowly prowling up to the side of the bed as he reached his index finger out and ghosted it down her navel and to the hem of her skirt. She squirmed.

"Three weeks," she answered honestly, her teeth clenched and her breath became heavy. Her chest felt tight.

He waved his wand and her clothes were all gone. He climbed on top of her, his hardness pressing against her stomach where he sat, staring down at her. He grabbed a breast, squeezing it to earn a gasp from Hermione.

"Perfect," he said darkly, wearing a smile that matched his tone of voice. His other hand reached behind him, sliding slowly down her folds until he dipped a finger into her opening. Hermione stiffened.

"You must be so pent up, haven't you, Hermione?" he egged on.

She whimpered, pulling at her bindings and trying her best to wriggle her hips, but Tom held her down. He slowly worked his hands in a circular motion against the hood of her clit, smiling down as he watched Hermione go from staring at him with a fire to closing her eyes and letting her mouth drop open with small moans escaping.

"You tell me when you're building up," he demanded.

She could only imagine what he'd do to her if she didn't obey.

"I'm building."

He stopped, taking his fingers immediately away from her as her muscles pulsed from the loss of friction. If he was able to view it, he'd see her clit moving. She whimpered.

"This is what you get for making me desire you so..."

_Was wanting someone a crime? _Hermione thought with furrowed eyebrows and heavy-lidded eyes.

"You stupid, filthy," he started as he began massaging her clit once more. She wanted to writhe beneath him, but she was trapped, "thick-headed, insufferable, know-it-all, _Mudblood-"_

"I'm building up." He stopped again.

Her eyes were watery, her legs shaking from the need to come. _It's been so long..._

"I shouldn't want you," he went on." The hand he had taken away from her clit grabbed onto her neglected breast, toying with the nipple between his thumb and index finger. She cried out, begging for him to let her cum.

_Of course he shouldn't want me. I shouldn't want him_. But she did want him, body and soul. Over the weeks they had known each other, he had crept into her heart like a deadly poison, as if her body was the host and him the parasite.

She shouldn't want to be touched by the Dark Lord. She shouldn't want to be held by the one man who tortured her friends and their families. She shouldn't love Voldemort.

But she did. And no matter what happened, no matter how much she hated him, she couldn't stop it.

It was as if he wouldn't let her.

He let go of her breast and went back to attending to her clit. It was swollen, pulsating, aching for touch, and poking from its hood. Tom put a wet finger to it directly and she cried out.

"Too sensitive," she whined.

"Oh really, Hermione?" he asked in a playful voice. "If you want the orgasm, you'll get it the way I let you."

He stopped and got off of her, finding some other ties to fasten her ankles to the bed's foot posts. She was crying now, whimpering from insanity he was bringing her.

"Don't worry, Hermione. The game has only begun." He gave her a dark smile and tears spilled down her cheeks.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Hermione's naked body was drenched in sweat and Tom was still clothed. His raging hard-on poked roughly through his trousers, tenting them. He sat at the foot of the bed, watching Hermione's pussy quake and pulsate with a crying need for that one orgasm that hadn't come yet. He had tortured her clit, tried to see if she'd come from direct contact. But all he got were pleas and cries.

"It's so amazing, to see you in such dire need. Now you know how I've felt for _months_."

Would he do this to her for months? If he did, she would surely die.

He pressed two wet fingers to her bright pink clit, flicking it until Hermione cried out that she was building up. He stopped to see the clit pulsate and smiled, almost even laughed.

Finally, he inserted two fingers into her waiting entrance, smiling at just how soaking wet she was. Slowly, he worked them, pumping them.

"Don't, I could come just from that," she warned him.

"Then you know what to tell me," he quickly responded.

Suddenly he was pounding in and out of her, his fingers curled so that the fingertips rubbed against where he knew her g-spot was, his eyes focused on her opening as he watched his fingers pull out and push in. Every so often, he allowed his thumb to collide with her enlarged, sensitive clit as he pounded into her all the way. He wished it was him. Sweet Merlin, he wished.

She cried that she was close and he got up, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at Hermione's tortured form. By now, she was even blindfolded. And so he undressed himself and untied her ankles.

"What are you doing?" she croaked suddenly, aware and alarmed.

Tom said nothing resting her legs so they draped over his shoulders as he grabbed his member and slowly slid it up and down between her folds, feeling her clit, her entrance, her _wetness_.

"Tom, _don't do that_," she cried.

It took all the self control he had to keep himself teasing her as thus.

But it wasn't long before he couldn't take it any longer. He was aching to make her _his_.

He fucked her furiously, pounding into her, hearing her cries, her gasps, her moans, her words, everything from the discomfort of the tip of the invasion down to him rubbing against her g-spot roughly and her reacting wildly to the pleasure he gave her. He filled her entirely, even stretching her a bit past what she had been used to. He was larger than anything she had taken in before. But it _felt so good_.

"Touch my clit," she begged somewhere between a moan and a cry during the first minute of him fucking her. The only things heard in the atmosphere were the slap of his balls hitting her buttocks, their heavy breaths, their moans, her cries, her please, and the crackling of the fire. The air smelled like sex and musk, and she loved ever minute and every part of it. Especially since it was Tom doing it.

Tom, who she'd go to hell for loving this much under such circumstances.

"No. You cum this way."

And she finally did. She cried out, tears spilling over her cheeks. And only when Tom felt her walls quaking around him, urging him onto his held-back orgasm, did he roughly rub his thumb against her clit to make her orgasm last as long as he could. She pulled at her restraints with a ferocity and he came, crying out her name, spilling into her more than he ever spilled before. She was his. All his. _And no one else'__s._


	21. Only Human

**Prompt:** Teachers

**Warnings:** Sexual Content

* * *

**Only Human**

Hermione's was rubbing her tired, sunken eyes when Tom walked into the teacher's lounge. He was looking bright as usual, all dressed up to make the girls melt as they did every day. But Hermione didn't feel the way she knew Tom felt at the moment. A night of tossing and turning and the death of her best friend on her mind had left her both sleepless and restless.

"Thought you were still on Bereavement Leave," Tom said when his eyes saw her. He surveyed her frizzy hair that was in a sloppy ponytail, the fact that her ruby short-sleeved cardigan wasn't tucked in to her pencil skirt like it usually was, and that she wasn't wearing heels for the first time in months. He almost wanted to cringe at the state of her old, worn black flats.

Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee and ignored him. She would deal with him heckling her after the black coffee entered her system.

Behind her, Tom sat down a box of a dozen donuts. He did that every first Monday of the month to gain love from the other teachers. He liked getting sucked up to, and even though it was always a help for Hermione, who hardly ever had time to eat breakfast before leaving her flat, she resented it.

He pulled out a chair at the round table sitting in the middle of the room and shrugged out of his black pea coat, revealing a dark emerald green blazer, silver tie, and black oxford. He was always the stylish one. But Hermione guessed he felt he had to be exactly that since he was the youngest male teaching at this school.

Hermione let the scolding, bitter caffeine fill her mouth, traveling down her throat in waves of serenity. She sighed softly and turned around to lean her sore back against the counter as her eyes met with Tom's. His grey eyes were lighter today, a sign that he was starting the day off in a generally good mood.

_Lucky him, _Hermione thought with a scowl.

But Tom was staring too long, and the expression he wore almost seemed abnormal.

"Everything alright, Hermione?" he asked lightly.

"Peachy," she murmured. She sat down across from him, letting her coffee cup with a lion cress on it sit just before her on the fake wood. She reached over and picked the first donut she could touch - a cream-filled one.

She bit into it, her hunger awakening.

"You didn't sleep did you."

"So what if I didn't?"

"Dammit, Hermione. Quit pushing me away like that." His voice sounded hard, strained. She eyed his fists.

Hermione finished off the donut shortly after and just looked at Tom with a blank expression with only the bags under her eyes to tell the tale of the hard night she had.

"It's been months now that you've been this way with me. I'm trying to be friends with you."

She wanted to laugh aloud at the idea of Tom Riddle wanting friends. She found it funny that he still had no knowledge of the fact that she knew him back in high school. She even knew him in university. They never met. They never made eye contact. But she had watched him from a distance, heard every gossipy detail from her best friend Ginny and the others.

The Tom Riddle she knew was a hard man with a stone for a heart. He took pride in being better than everyone around him. He wasn't a good friend either, going through friend upon friend in the span of high school and university. She had watched him bring down any person that made him feel threatened or had so much as pissed him off.

And even though Hermione was mature enough to know that there was always two sides to a story, she _saw _it. She saw it the day they started their jobs together, the day that he introduced himself to her at orientation, the day that she had her classroom door open to where she accidentally heard the way Tom treated his students from across the hall.

_How did the girls like him? How? _She had overheard some of the students call him a jackass, a bastard, a thick-headed git, and even an arse. But they always went back around to, "He looks so sexy when he's angry though." Hermione often wondered if the girls pissed him off on purpose from that comment.

Nonetheless, the only kindness he had in him, if it was earnest, was now and all the times Tom offered to take Hermione out for a drink or for a coffee or even offered to bring her back lunch when he left the campus to stop somewhere for a salad.

"I know what you think of me," he finally said. He took a donut for himself - jelly. He didn't seem as upset as he'd normally be when he'd be disgusted. She knew he was disgusted, he was just being mild about it.

Hermione kept quiet and continued to sip on her black coffee.

"You judge me. And you probably think I can't be a gentleman."

"Spot on." _About_.

Tom suddenly got up, and after Hermione sat her coffee cup back down, her eyes followed him around the table and in front of her. She almost turned her body, but she kept herself in place as she watched him kneel down before her. He took her hand and she wanted to pull it away.

She didn't because for some reason, she saw truth in those cold eyes.

"Let me help you, Hermione. Let me get to know you." It wasn't a plea. He wasn't asking her to let him. He was demanding it.

And she wasn't so sure if she wanted to obey or not.

* * *

Hermione stepped into Tom Riddle's flat. It was too dark to really see anything, but she slipped out of her heels and felt his hard chest against her back, his arms around her, and his lips at her ears whispering things that made her shiver with pent-up arousal.

She heard the door shut behind them and the click of the lock. Was she truly ready for this?

Either way, it was past the point of no return.

He spun her around, kissed her breathless, and urged her backwards into the dark as he pulled her golden cardigan from the waist of her skirt, paying care to the buttons as he undid each and every one of them. Her shyness to the fact that an intimidatingly god-like man was paying this sort of attention to her left her hesitant before she reached out and unbuttoned his grey oxford with shaky hands after he had shrugged from his black blazer.

Hermione's back met with a solid wall and his body was _there_. He was everywhere, all around her. Their legs were between one another's, his chest pressed her breasts flat, his hardness against her thigh, his arms pinning her wrists beside her head in such a grip that there was promises for bruising.

He let her arms drop to her side after a while as he unzipped the left side of her skirt, quickly yanking it down her southern form and pulling the hem of her camisole up and over her head. She heard the metal clink of his belt and the drop of heavy fabric hitting wood floor. His arms were back around her and he pulled her up until her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist.

His lips were back on hers. _Yes_. They were moving now, and Hermione paid no attention to it as she focus on the shape of his lips, the way they molded against hers, how soft they were. Somewhere during them moving, her bra had dropped to the floor.

Hermione was suddenly falling and she slightly bounced off of a mattress.

_So this is it_.

In minutes, he was inside of her, pacing himself to enjoy the feel of finally seducing Hermione to where she'd give in. For months he wanted to fuck her, get to know her, make her _his_. And for weeks the woman had proved to be a stubborn bitch. He liked it, though. Often he had come across sex partners only for them to be so easily coaxed, so easily hurt. So Mary-Sue.

Hermione was strong-hearted, and he had no plans of letting her go any time soon.


	22. Maybe

**Prompt:** Cheating

**Warnings:** Language and Smut

* * *

**Maybe**

A hand touched Hermione's shoulder and she quickly moved it out of reach as if it had burnt her. It didn't just burn her, it scared it.

"Don't be like this," came Tom's voice from behind her. He sounded that forcefully-calm he only used when Hermione was pissed at him and he was just trying to get her to "stop being a bitch."

She hugged the pillow to her stomach more, curling her knees up to touch the soft familiar fabric of her nightgown. A tear that had been gathering in the corner of her eye slipped over the bridge of her nose and hit the pillow beneath her head.

Suddenly the lights were back on in the bedroom and Tom was on his feet.

This couldn't be good.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut to try and block out what Tom was beginning to say.

"What do you expect from me, huh!?" he yelled. His voice filled the room in an angry booming echo. "You haven't let me _touch _you in over a year. It's frustrating. And when some doe-eyed whore is looking at me the way I wish you still did, you better damn well expect that I'll do as I please. I'm an independent man. I'm _The _Dark Lord."

Hermione was sobbing now, shaking her head in denial of his words, but all the frustration had been boiling up within her and she could no longer contain it. She relaxed herself from hugging the pillow, throwing the covers off of herself as she was on her feet, facing Tom with swollen eyes and a tightened jaw.

"The way you wish _I _did? What about you, Tom! Huh? You think I don't notice how you don't look at me _that _way anymore?" She motioned her hand towards him, stopping her words to breathe quickly and let out two sobs.

Tom expression turned from livid to a relaxed kind of angry.

"You used to talk to me about this stuff," he forced out. His voice was tight, full of the emotion he _rarely _showed for her.

She knew he didn't love her. But she was his. And he was hers.

They stood there, staring at each other.

With a trembling lip, Hermione asked, "Do you…even want me?"

Tom strode over to her, suffocating the distance until he had her backed into the wall behind her.

"Every day. I always have. You're all I can think about."

This was the closest Tom had come to her in a while. He smelled of the spearmint soap he used mixed in with his arousal. He always did enjoy a good angry moment with her. He didn't smell of that whore. There was no doubt that he didn't even spend much time with her.

Hermione escaped from him cornering her, moving his arms aside so that her back was to him as she wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the door.

"Hermione."

_Please don't_.

He touched her shoulders, but this time she hadn't the will to move away. She missed his touch. She missed _him_.

He towered over her from behind, a full foot taller than her. Slowly, trembling, she turned around and looked up at him. His head was bent low in case she wanted to push herself onto her tiptoes and kiss him.

But he drove her mad.

She tilted her head up towards him in the slightest way that gave him the "okay" which led him to cupping her face, crushing his lips against hers. He kissed her neck, nibbled at it, bit her hard below her ear, heard her small screams and pleas. He lifted her onto their bed, nearly ripping his clothes from himself as he crawled on top of her grasped a breast once he had pulled her nightgown off, his hands roaming her body as if he had missed her with all of his stone cold heart. It wasn't long until his rock-hard member was pounding into her, fucking her the way she had wanted to get fucked in a while, fucking her the way that only he could do.

And only Hermione could make Tom feel this way, feel this much.

She cried out his name after whispering gathered words of sweet nothings when he made her climax and he spilled inside her. He kissed her face repeatedly – her forehead, her temple, her cheek, her chin, her lips, the corner of her mouth, between her eyebrows, the tip of her nose…

Hermione couldn't help thinking that maybe he did love her.


	23. Plaything

**Prompt:** Drunk

**Warnings:** Suggestive Content

* * *

**Plaything**

Tom could tell it was a bad idea. Not only was it such a thing because he never like socializing, but because Hermione Granger was here.

He could tell that she was feeling as shitty as the rumors perceived her to be. After all, the most popular Quidditch player just dumped her sorry ass. Of course he wouldn't know the story, nor would he ever ask it, but Hermione may or may not have deserved it.

She had her hair in a messy up-do, her eyes surrounded by cheap, sloppy makeup. Luckily she wasn't wearing as much as the other girls at the party were wearing, which left her still looking like herself. She wore an odd outfit though, a cropped back shirt and a short floral skirt. _Almost slutty_, Tom thought. But his eyes were trained on the small belly button the shirt left for everyone to see. He gulped and looked away.

But no later than a few hours following was she all _over_ him. He hadn't the heart to complain, being that a beautiful, attractive witch was smiling up at him with her sweet brown eyes trained on him. She wanted him to ruin her, make her forget about all this shit.

But would he give her that satisfaction?

His eyes fell down to her cleavage. She must have had a decent sized pair of breasts, but Hermione's free hand, which wasn't holding the red cup of some dreadfully-smelling liquor, grasped his chin and forced him to look at her and not at her body.

"What is it about you, Riddle?" she asked, slurring her words casually with a tilt of her head. She sat her cup down on the table behind him and put a hand on her hip, arching her back as she pressed her body into his.

_Quite the little seductress._

"You're so quiet. So observant. So smart, almost as smart as me."

His eyebrows raised. _She thinks she's smarter than me_. Or maybe she was just jesting. He'd never admit that they were as equally intelligent, as the thought kept in the back of his mind, but he liked the idea of being far more better than she.

He felt her warmth radiating from her, breathing heavily as he smelled the sweet taste of hard cider on her lips. He reached down to taste for himself, sighing with satisfaction. Yes, Hermione was the plaything he was long due for.


	24. Restless Sleep

**Prompt:** Some dream I had

**Warnings:** Language

* * *

**Restless Sleep**

There was too much on her mind for Hermione to fall asleep. Hours upon hours, she'd toss and turn in her bed, trying with all her might to find a comfortable-enough position to fall asleep. But nothing would suffice. By now, her off-white sheets were pulled from the foot of the bed, now tangled around her legs with her rouge comforter halfway off of the bed. She hugged a bunched up corner of the comforter to her chest in hopes it'd help, but all she could do was think of him and the fight. She'd be fine for a few hours, but after that, she'd start up crying again. Her head already ached from the number of tears she had already shed and her eyes felt swollen, burning with a discomfort that was of no help to her trying to sleep.

Her room was slowly becoming light, a sign that the morning sun was making its way to sunrise. Birds were chirping outside the window of the small country house. Maybe it was a bad idea to buy the place, so far from the noise of the city she had grown so comfortable with. Maybe it was the strange silence of the early day that left her uneasy.

She was curled up on her side, her legs almost meeting her breasts as she still hugged the bunched up corner to her chest. She had her nose buried in it, sucking in the familiar smell of laundry detergent and fabric softener.

She began thinking of getting up and dressing for the day when she heard the sound of a car door shut just outside.

She froze, her eyes opening to stare at the walls. Was it just her imagination?

The sound of footsteps across gravel was what drew her from her bed. She almost stumbled to her face when she untangled her legs from the sheet, her feet padding across the warm wood towards the window that overlooked the dirt driveway and the gravel walkway.

Leaning against the glossy black Ferrari clad in sweats, tousled black hair, and tired eyes was Tom Riddle.

She hesitated before she put her hands to the handles of her doubled window, opening it to lean against the windowsill.

Tom's eyes were on her in seconds and she sniffled. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" she asked him weakly.

"Come down and find out," he called up to her. Usually, there'd be a jesting tone in his voice. But this was all in seriousness.

Her lips formed a carefully thin line as she sighed and closed her window. She grabbed a soft worn sweater from her vanity chair, pulling it on as she made her way down the old wooden steps and out the front door in her worn black flip flops.

The sun was just rising now as she stopped a few feet away from the man, afraid to look at him directly. Was he here to talk down at her again? Was he here to end this..._whatever_ it was? Fear fluttered in her chest and she suddenly found it hard to breathe.

_I love him_. _I really fucking love him_.

Tom reached out towards her, making his way towards her cheek. She flinched a bit, but didn't back down. Tom paused a second at her flinch, but continued, brushing his fingers softly against her wet cheek.

"You've been crying. A lot," he pointed out. His voice was hard and Hermione worried if it was towards her rather than himself.

"So what?" she asked as she turned her cheek away from him, sniffling again. "I have the right to cry."

Tom was silent for a moment, but Hermione continued to stare at a dandelion sticking out of the grass near the flower bed by the walkway.

And then his arms were around her.

She melted into his embrace in an instant, feeling at peace for the first time in thirteen hours. She wrapped her arms back around him and tightened for a moment. She buried her face into the shoulder of his black tee shirt and sucked in the familiar scent of her lover before he pulled her back and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at her.

"It won't happen again. I can assure you that." His eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes slightly widened with determination.

Hermione knew she shouldn't believe him, that this would only happen again, but all she could do was let him kiss her and carry her up the stairs to her bed where he laid her down, adjusted the sheets and comforter, brushed the dirty tissues from the side of the bed into her wastebasket, and curl up beside her. Her stretched himself out, a hand bent behind his head as Hermione curled up against him. She rested her head on his chest, interlocking her legs with the leg that was closest to her. Tom bent his so that it'd be easier for her.

His free hand brushed her hair back, caressed her cheek, watched her fall right to sleep. Only when he heard the soft sighs of the sleeping lioness did he allow himself final rest, knowing that she had forgiven him.


	25. Happy Ending Massage

**Prompt:** Plush

**Warnings:** Sexual Content

* * *

**Happy Ending Massage**

Hermione's eyes felt swollen from how tired she was. She had been up since early morning, and the sound of birds chirping outside confirmed that she badly needed sleep. But nothing would stand. The open book between her and Tom was what kept her glued to that tan leather sofa sofa.

"We need sleep." Tom suggested it as if it was something to take lightly.

Hermione yawned before she gave him _the_ _look_. "The exams are Monday, Tom. _Monday_. We need to study as much as we could." Her voice crackled from the exhaustion and she yawned again, causing Tom to yawn as well.

Tom didn't even look tired, compared to how much Hermione felt. She eyed him with an angry, frustrated expression.

"No, we can study more _after _we sleep, Tom started as he got to his feet, "You seem so stressed. Have you been getting enough sleep?" he questioned as he came over and sat down next to her. She smelled his spice body wash from across the room, but now it was more enticing.

_If he knew I liked him...__s_he shook her head at herself physically when she meant to do that mentally. Tom was too popular. There was no telling how much of a hell he'd make her life if he were to find out about her little crush she had on him.

"Here. Let me give you a back massage," he said as he pulled the book from Hermione's grasp and closed it, setting it down on the coffee stand beside the couch they were sitting on.

Hermione's face twisted into confusion. Her tiredness left her without the ability to think straight, but she thought straight about this. "Since when did you do nice things for me? That didn't involve school work?" She questioned him. Her words were almost slurred, as if she were drunk. (Drunk off of tiredness. And maybe his scent.)

Tom got to his feet and motioned with his hands. "Lay down on your stomach.

Hermione groaned sleepily as she turned over without question and stretched out along the couch, crossing her arms beneath her cheek as she closed her eyes and sighed. She had never received a back massage before. The soft back rubs her mother used to give her were nothing compared to the literal idea of a massage.

Tom's skilled, slender fingers touched to the back of her button-down shirt, pushing into her shoulder blades softly while gyrating his fingers in a way that Hermione let out a soft moan from the relaxed sensation it gave her.

"You have a knot right here," Tom started as he rubbed his fingers against the left of her mid-back and earned a pained wince from her. He felt the tightness of a bunched up knot beneath his fingers and his lips formed a thin line. Hermione was more tense and stressed out than he thought.

He was sitting astride her backside, legs curled on each side. Luckily the couch was wide enough so that he could just relax his legs and not fall off.

Hermione was so sleepy she could have fallen asleep right then and there, but she was too transfixed with Tom's hands. She felt him at her spine, then her lower back, down to her hips. He even went back up to her shoulders, forearms. He was giving her a body massage rather than a simple back massage, from what it seemed.

She moaned every time Tom would rub through a knot the most perfect way, and all the while she had no idea that it was music to his ears.

She didn't know her skirt was bunched up, but the hem was crumpled against her upper thigh, exposing the skin her stockings couldn't cover.

"Does that feel good?" Tom asked as he moved back and started massaging her ass.

Hermione would have frozen up had she been more awake. _Tom Riddle was touching my ass_. She wanted to giggle out about it, but she just smiled with closed eyes and moaned a "yes". All those hours of sitting on her ass and reading all those books...

She hadn't even noticed what Tom's touch left behind - a tingling sensation spreading through her body, down her legs to her toes, up through her core to her chest.

In all honesty, she hadn't felt that relaxed in years.

"Spread your legs," he whispered into her ear suddenly, and immediately she obeyed, her mind beginning to wake up a bit more.

Her eyes opened when she felt him touch her. And not just _touch_, he was massaging her where no boy had ever touched before. She wanted to ask what he was doing, but she bit her lip and stifled a moan when she felt his fingertips brushing against her clit, just her underwear to block direct contact.

"I wonder how wet Hermione Granger is for me," he murmured darkly, seductively into her ear. "Does that feel good?"

Hermione couldn't stifle back the next moan as she struggled to nod her head. "Yes," she breathed.

She arched her back a bit to give him better access, feeling him press against her back as he massaged her pussy. She felt it now, how wet she had become.

"I want you to feel good," he murmured, leaning over and pressing his lips to her neck.

His fingers were gentle, slow, but just enough to increase the pleasure she was feeling. She waited for that orgasm to build up.

"You want me to make you cum?" he asked her next. His voice was more seductive than dark this time and her legs began to trembled with the power he had over her.

"Yes," she said almost in a plea.

She hadn't gotten off in weeks, probably months - she hadn't kept track. With all that's been going on with the exams...

Who knew that all that was needed was one-on-one studying at her apartment?

He took his hand away for a moment, but only to push up the hem of her skirt so that it was folded over onto her back, exposing her underwear-clad ass. He pushed back the underwear right where he knew her clit and entrance would be, and dipped two fingers into her, spreading her juices down to her clit.

She let out a louder moan this time, the feeling of his hands on her being more than she could ever explain.

She was just thankful her parents were out of town this weekend.

And then she felt it build up, that sweet, aching orgasm - stronger than any she's had before.

His fingers quickened, eyes on her face as he nipped at her neck, thrived off of her moans.

"That's right. I can feel it. I can feel that it's building up," he said, feeling her clit and the muscles in her pussy begin to shake a bit and tighten up. "Cum for me," he growled into her ear.

He had her screaming when the orgasm hit her in waves of shock. Her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth gaped open to let out the scream, hands gripping onto the fabric of the sofa.

_Bloody hell_.


	26. The Difference Between Yes and No

**Prompt:** Denial

**Warnings:** For some people, this could be tagged as rape? But not for me, since that wasn't the purpose of why I wrote it. But whatever. Also, sexual content and language.

* * *

**The Different Between Yes and No**

She was at war with herself. He could see it in her eyes, hear the "yes" in her "no" and could even read through the way she shook, trembled, clutched at the collar of his unbuttoned oxford and weakly tried pushing him away. Hermione Granger was stronger than that, he knew. Even remembered it from the punch he had swung at her the other night after a nasty quarrel. She was telling her mind and body "no" more than she said it to the almost-naked Tom Riddle above her, who had her pinned to the mattress, barely-dressed.

"Tom," she begged shakily. "Please."

Her clothes were strewn along the floor of the bedroom, leaving her to be only covered by her bra and underwear, which had been pushed aside so that Tom could rub the head of his cock against her drenched pussy's lips. She felt ashamed of herself, for allowing herself to let go and come this far.

Tom was only in his unbuttoned oxford, his underwear hanging on to one ankle, his pants and jacket somewhere in the living room. He shook from the patience he was withholding just for Hermione. He could have been fucking her hard by now, maybe even screaming her name and cumming. He could have had her nail's marks on his back already, even had his mind filled with her moans and screams, and the expression on her face when he brought her the most pleasure he knew she'd been in a while.

"Please, what?" he asked her darkly, slowly sliding his hardened cock into her. He smirked, finding just how fucking wet she was for him.

He marveled over her reaction - the sharp intake of breath, how her mouth fell open as if to let out a whispered moan, how she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to shut out the pleasure.

"Please fuck you?" he whispered into her hear.

He slowly slid out of her again and suddenly, roughly slammed into her, freezing when he was buried balls-deep, earning a pleasure-filled yelp from her.

"No," she whined. It sounded almost as if she were in tears.

She tried to weakly push him away again, so he leaned up and grabbed onto her wrists, pinning them down to the mattress beside her head as he slowly fucked her and caused her to arch her back and writhe.

"Oh no," he said with a sarcastic, playful pout. "Does it feel too good?"

_Get yourself together, Hermione_. She shook her head back and forth, nothing was working. _He's a monster. You shouldn't feel this way about him._

She was crying now from how over-emotional this pleasure was. Yes, she shouldn't feel this way about him. But he was so damn handsome, achingly beautiful, and the way he made her feel... _He understood her._

It had been _weeks _since he had fucked her. Weeks since she knew his true identity, weeks since she found out she had lost her virginity to the young Dark Lord.

But it had been weeks since she realized that it was past the point of no return. He had her under his spell. All it took was a kiss on the lips, a nibble at her neck, a grope of his hands anywhere, and she was his to do what he pleased with.

Tom pinned her body down more when she tried to squirm, his chest pinning hers to the mattress as her legs and wrists were. He was nestled between her legs, the angle his body held her down and how he was fucking her left her legs unable to close, only to open more until they ached from the stretch.

His pace began picking up and she was letting out tiny moans, as if she were fighting with all her strength to hold them back.

But suddenly, he stopped. "Shall I stop then?"

_No. _"Yes," she cried, refusing to look at him. She was shaking with arousal, her pussy pulsating from the loss of contact, a droplet of her juices slowly falling down between her butt cheeks and to the mattress. Yes. She wanted him. He didn't have to ask and receive a lie for that.

"What did I tell you about lying to me?" His voice was darker as he questioned it through barred teeth and suddenly fucking her hard.

_Fuck, she feels so good_. He couldn't get enough of this. Hermione was moaning now and he even caught the faint whispers of a "yes" and "fuck" and even an "oh".

"Lie to me again and I'll be sure to make your life miserable. Just like I did at Hogwarts," he warned her.

She let out a sob, a tear spilling down her temple.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked then to test just how far she was willing to go to make him all the more angrier at her lies.

"Fuck me," she said, broken.

Yes. Tom had broken Hermione Granger. He finally got her to cave in and admit she wanted him.

He felt her move her hips as he fucked her, wriggling a bit, almost gyrating.

In a blink of an eye he had changed the position to where he was fucking her.

They were on their right sides, Tom behind her with an arm wrapped around her side to hold him to her, his hips slowly moving so he could gently fuck her for just a bit. His free hand came around and slid down her body slowly, soothingly, and found her clit.

The moment his finger touched the pearl of pleasure, she threw her head back and let out a cry.

"Do you want me to make you cum?" he asked in a growl at her ear.

She whined and nodded her head. _Yes_, _right there_.

He made tiny circular motions, softly, teasingly, barely there, _but just enough_. She tried to open up her legs as wide as she could, to give him the access for more pleasure while he slowly fucked her. His cock teased at her g-spot the way his finger teased at her clit.

She was _on fire _with desire for him and that orgasm she hoped was promised.

"You sure?" He was teasing her more now. His touch lighter and his fucks slower, driving her amuck.

"Please," she called out. "Make me cum."

That was all she had to say, really. His fingers applied more pressure to her bud of nerves, his fucks a bit faster, but not too hard. and she was quaking, crying out, her muscles swallowing him up whole, her clit pulsating from the orgasm.

When he knew she had ridden out the orgasm completely, he quickly forced her onto her stomach and positioned up her ass, grabbing her hips with a bruising force as he fucked her as hard as he pleased.

Hungover from the hard orgasm, Hermione was sensitive, but still able to feel just how good it felt for him to fuck her. It was almost as if they fit perfectly together as she moaned into the mattress, clutched at the off-white sheets, and arched her beautiful back.

Tom came and he held onto her as if he held on for dear life. This took Hermione by surprise and she froze, turning her head to the side to catch in the corner of her eye, the view of Tom burying his forehead into her mid-back, breaking heavily as his cum dripped down her thighs and his hands had left their bruising locations to grasp firmly to her waist the way his arms were wrapped around her.

"Tom?" she called out shakily.

Tom didn't reply.

He was just as in trouble as she was. He shouldn't feel this way about a Mudblood, let alone someone who wasn't from his time. If anyone from his order found out...

Well, if anyone from Hermione's time found out she was fucking the enemy...

All chaos would surely break loose.

* * *

**A/N:** Initially, Hermione _did_ want him, she loved him. And god, did she want him to fuck her. But she kept trying to tell herself that it was wrong, that the idea of wanting him like that was wrong. But in the end she gave into him because Tom knew her – he knew she wanted him, knew she loved him. He wanted to please her, make her see what she was missing out on. Someone please tell me how that's rape.


	27. Black

**Prompt:** Torture

**Warnings:** Smut, Language, Sexual Torture, Edging, Bondage

* * *

**Black**

It felt like it had been hours. Hours upon hours and all she could see was nothing but black. The room was warm and her body was doused in sweat, shaking and quivering from the denial. Her eyes had been crying. Whether they were from the fact that she wanted this to end or from the fact that she refused to give in.

In the back of her mind, she knew who was behind on this. _She just knew_. And she'd be damned if he actually got the truth out of her. For years she had been lucky to be kept out of sight from him, but of course it had to end at some point. He was bound to catch her.

She whimpered, moaned, groaned, even growled as if it would distract her mind from the obvious, she wanted to cum.

She was tied to an x-shaped post. Her wrists, waist, and ankles tied with leather. And above the dirtiest magic, a spell cast on her womanhood.

Hours and hours she was pinned there in the dark, being tortured by the blasted curse. Her pussy was throbbing, even felt her own juices running down her leg, her stomach heaving and thighs shaking.

It never ended - the sensation. First it'd start off as something that could only be described as a soft, gentle touch, rubbing cottony circular motions into her engorged clit. It would do that until she was about to reach orgasm. Every time, it'd stop, and when she was down from the high, start up all over again.

At this point she'd have rather been kicked bloody than tortured as thus.

And after hours of orgasm denial, all she could think of was how delightful the Cruciatus Curse sounded.

But suddenly, it stopped, and she felt her body relax from the torture, even though her womanhood was left unsatisfied, quivering with need for friction of _anything_, in feral need to cum.

"Hermione Granger," said a smooth male voice slowly. It was dark and malicious, belonging to the none-other Tom Riddle.

The very idea of the nefarious, handsome man sent a shiver down her spine. Or maybe it was the need to orgasm that sent the shiver.

"Mudblood and leader of the Order of the Phoenix - it truly _is_ a pleasure to see you thus." A dark laugh erupted, echoing as if they were in a small, tiled room.

"Let's see if my lovely spell taught you a lesson," he began. The next noise that echoed around the room was the sound of a chair being scraped across the floor. It sounded metal. "Now tell me, Hermione. Where is the Order hiding?"

Hermione just breathed deeply, her nose flaring and her jaw tightening. She wouldn't give in.

And then she heard a snap of fingers and suddenly, the room illuminated with candles hanging off of what looked to be a torture room. The walls and floors were covered in a dark rouge title, wide and square-like, with only a door ahead and Tom Riddle to be seen.

Hermione's eyes burned from the sudden light and she squinted before she could see Tom Riddle, naked and hard sitting casually before her.

Bloody Merlin, Tom was a sight to see. Had he been watching her this entire time?

"So quiet now that the spell has been lifted." His voice sounded soft and sarcastic, filled with lies. He got up and walked over to Hermione.

As she breathed deeply, she caught a whiff of him. Spearmint and male. There was arousal in the air, and Hermione knew it was from the both of them.

"Maybe," Tom began as he gently pressed his hands to her mound, sliding a finger down her folds until he felt that engorged clit. Slowly, he rubbed it, massaged it expertly, "this could change your mind."

Hermione growled with anger and frustration. She knew he wouldn't release her. Physically and sexually. But his hand was grabbing her throat and his touch went rough, bringing her closer to that wishful climax far faster than that spell did. But Tom stopped the minute her chest began to increase in falling and rising.

Hermione let out a cry of frustration and angrily, with all her shaking strength, writhed and fought with the bonds.

Tom laughed and snapped his fingers.

Hermione's head felt light, her vision going blurry from how fast things changed. She wasn't bound to an x-shaped post anymore. She was tied face-down to a bench-like post. Above, a bar held up the bonds that tied her to the bench. Her wrists and ankles. The way her ankles were tied had her legs spread as far apart as they could be without terrible discomfort.

She began crying, because she knew this wouldn't end any time soon.

Slowly, she felt Tom slide into her and she sucked in a breath at the sensation, her muscles pulsing around him with happiness.

"I'll give you two choices, Hermione. You give me a hint at where the Order is hiding at and I'll let you cum. You tell me where the Order is at exactly, and I will let you cum as many times as you wish _and _let you go."

Hermione couldn't think correctly. It was fuzzy from the feral need to cum and the sensation of Tom's hard cock buried within her, filling her to the brim in the most luscious way.

She wanted to cum. Dear Merlin did she. Her body was tight and mentally uncomfortable without that orgasm. So what she needed was some way to give him a hint that wouldn't exactly lead him to the Order.

Slowly, Tom slid in and out of her, a hand sliding to her large clit to flick, squeeze, torture. It didn't matter what he did to it, it was pleasurable. He was good at what he was doing, skilled and patient. He gave her enough pleasure to keep her at the edge, but not enough to bring her to orgasm.

_Bloody bastard I will fucking get you back for this one day_.

"Harry Potter," she suddenly exclaimed, sniffling and letting out a noise of protest when Tom froze.

"Harry Potter?" Hermione tried to look back at Tom, but all she could see in the corner of her eye was a thoughtful Tom Riddle.

"Yes...yes...Harry Potter - it makes sense." A dark chuckle. "Oh my pet, how've you delighted me this evening. And for that, I'll give you a reward."

Hermione shook her head and found herself unable to believe Tom. There was no doubt he'd torture her farther.

But he started back up again, fucking her and playing with her clit. But he was much rougher, faster, meaner, viscous, and the minute she felt him explode within her did she cry out murderous words, her orgasm pulsing through her body like an electric pulse that she swore would never end. Orgasm after orgasm, he fucked her, refused to leave her sensitive clit alone.

And when it was all over, he pulled out of her and snapped his fingers, letting her fall to the cold floor naked and unable to keep herself up from how shaky she was.

_He's going to let me go_?

The room went dark again and she knew this was just the beginning of what he had in store for her.


End file.
